


O grito das gaivotas (The cry of seagulls)

by Saso_615



Series: O grito das gaivotas [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 16th Century CE, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pirates, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:40:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27613589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saso_615/pseuds/Saso_615
Summary: João took out two bottles of rum and his precious instrument from the boat they had settled on the beach. Arthur was already close to the greener parts of the island ; palm trees, different kinds of plants, tall grass and bird chants drew the prince's attention. Though, he would be stopped by his captain who wanted to stay closer to the water."I'll teach you how to dance like the women in my country. Venha. (Come)" He placed a hand behind Arthur's back to lead him to a perfect spot."I will not dance like a woman!" The brit protested, though it only made the portuguese laugh."Come on, even for me?"
Relationships: England/Portugal (Hetalia), Female South Italy/Spain (Hetalia)
Series: O grito das gaivotas [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018887
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	1. “Um”

**Author's Note:**

> This was just supposed to be a long one shot, but it ended up being so much longer. I’m very satisfied with it! Basically, a friend of mine posted a story of their wip on instagram and wished for someone to make a 50k fic about pirate porteng... and well... i delivered.  
> Anyway, please go follow chiring.art on insta she’s amazing!!
> 
> This is a human AU in the 16th century. All characters are 18 and over. The main pairing is porteng/engport
> 
> The story might get a little turbulent TW ; violence, mature content, nudity, suicide, mentions of assault.

_song : Gaivota by Amàlia Rodrigues_

_  
As João played the small guitar he had brought with him from his country, Arthur stood by, back against the wooden railing. He studied him in the dark of the night, too far for his friend to notice his presence. Too quiet to break his concentration. He was playing with the wind as the ship moved slowly over the Atlantic. No land to be seen in sight and the seagulls were quiet. Barely any clouds hid the skies of their stars. The moon acted like a spotlight for the lone musician and that was the only luminosity Arthur needed to admire him. The brown hair held back into a low ponytail with a red ribbon seemed so luscious in the light. Even though his chest was mostly covered by his ruffled white poet blouse, the brit could still see through it thanks to the angle he was sitting in. His closed eyes revealed long healthy eyelashes and a peaceful expression. His boots were loosely tied up since there were no signs of threat. And that always seemed to make Arthur smile. The portuguese were always so laid-back, though never to be underestimated._

_João was too beautiful to disturb... But it had to be done._

_"João-"_

_Right as Arthur decided to speak up, João began to sing a song he'd heard before. His deep, gentle voice stopped the Englishman in his steps. Almost regretting his next move. He bit the inside of his cheek in a painful attempt to get the singer's attention. His equally 'fluffy' blouse waving in the wind with every step he took. His brown boots making tap dancing noises with the music. João knew his friend was joining him. His lips grew upwards._

_"João. I need to speak with you." He finally muttered out. Hesitation tinted his voice, but his words stayed strong. His presence always intimidated the other crewmates, and enemies, though it never bothered the captain._

_"Hm?" The other didn't stand from the chair he had claimed as his own earlier to play his song. He simply raised his head with a bright smile to meet a pair of emerald eyes. His fingers kept dancing across the instrument, never once missing a note._

_"It's important."_

_"I'm listening~"_

_Arthur took a deep breath, closing his eyes, doing his best not to explode at his friend over the music. It was after all calming. João was talented and Arthur had admitted to loving his music in the past. His shoulders fell in defeat, crossing his arms in the process._

_"I'm leaving. As soon as we go back to Europe I-... Someone offered me a job I simply cannot refuse."_

_The brit kept his serious stare on João. Something was missing. Actually everything was missing. Brown eyebrows rose up for a second, dark green eyes hinted pain and the sound of silence consumed them._

_"I won't be coming back after this trip, is what I'm trying to say." Arthur looked away from João. His fading smile was making the brit nauseous- an unfamiliar feeling._

_"Ah, I see. So what you're trying to say is..."_

_"This is goodbye."_

_João pierced Arthur's distance gaze deeper, letting an uncomfortable silence weigh on both of them. Kirkland cringed at his quick reply. He should have let his crewmate finish his own sentence, he thought. Now it felt as if he couldn't wait to get away from him._

_But..._

_"...I'm happy you came to tell me."_

_João knew better than to be angry with his friend. He forced a bright smile to comfort Arthur, though, little did he know, this would only make things worse._

_"Don't do that." He ditched the soft tone. "I know you're not."_

_João swallowed back an answer that could potentially hurt Arthur, going back to playing a different tune. A tune a little more agitated._

_"So that's your response? You're just going to sing and play your dumb little instrument?" These questions were rhetorical, of course, but he still waited for him to say something nonetheless. "Fine. Play all night for all I bloody care. I'll be packing." The one and only Englishman turned on his heels and walked away, never looking back. He wasn't sure why he got so heated, he didn't exactly yell at him either. But he was sure his message was made clear._

_João missed a note. His frustration was showing in his voice. Though the lyrics of the song meant heartbreak and only Arthur wouldn't know what it meant._

_As the night continued, the two regretted their conversation, but never admitted it to each other._

________________________

_Flashback_

**_"Capitão! Alguém está na água! Homem ao mar! (Captain! Someone is in the water! Man overboard!)" A crew member screamed for the captain to come out._ **

**_"Homem ao mar!" Another yelled before the captain came out of his room._ **

**_The crew members were trying to throw a rope at the man in the water, but he was unconscious, floating over the water on a piece of wood from the sunken ship. Shirtless, missing one boot and wearing ripped trousers, the crewmates thought he was a prisoner-and they would be right. They yelled for him to wake up until one of them jumped off the ship to save the man from possibly drowning. His hat was left on deck, alarming the crew members that it was the captain who dived into the water._ **

**_"Capitão!"_ **

**_Immediately after recovering the stranger, he grabbed onto the rope with all his strength and let his crew heave them up. Not a minute passed when they finally reached the decks and the captain's reflex was to check for a pulse. It was faint, but he was still breathing. With a breath of relief, he sat back next to the stranger. He wasn't sure if this was a trap set up by the Spaniards or even the French, but his instincts kicked in and felt as if he had to save this man. Something about him... He couldn't tell what it was, but it was like the world was telling him they were meant to meet._ **

**_"...Britânico? (British?)" He whispered after studying him a little more. The man seemed to be of british descendants. The captain took the man in his arms and walked through the crowd of pirates to place him in his private study to care for the Englishman._ **

**_When the doors behind him were closed and the man was laying on his bed, he stood by watching him, frowning. "Tell me... What happened to you..?"_ **

**_What's your story, pessoa inglês?_ **

_________________________

_As the sun rose, neither Arthur nor João were able to sleep. Their stubbornness would be their worst enemy. That was until a Spanish ship was spotted._

_The Portuguese started to warn the rest of the crew about the spanish ship with success. Everyone ran up to the decks, along with Arthur, getting their weapons and preparing for war. Shots were fired, some were hit, others didn't stop until they saw death. It was getting bloody and João had to lead them to safety. Though, the Spaniards would not let them. They were too close._

_"Espere! (Hold on!)" João exclaimed as the enemy ship collided with theirs. This caused turbulence on deck and nearly everyone fell back, except Arthur who was determined to kill every single one of them. The Spanish were not his favourite, though the reason why was still a mystery to them._

_Arthur was successfully able to take down moving sailors as if it was target practice. His skills impressed the crew and inspired them to go on. As they joined forces, the captain had no choice but to let go of his ship since they were unable to move and started firing at the enemy._

_"I'm going in!" Kirkland grabbed at the shrouds calling out to João who was up on the quarterdeck. He didn't let his captain stop him before swinging himself off from the ship, jumping sword first into battle on the enemy deck. With an ominous smile, Arthur didn't take long to kill the remaining crew with the help of João's shooters._

_"Idiota. Ele vai se matar! (Idiot. He'll get himself killed!)" He muttered to himself with immense irritation. João copied his Englishman, accompanying him on board._

_Although, he had already conquered the ship. Single handedly. João was left impressed, though his expression showed more shock. A deep breath escaped him._

_"Por favor, refrain from being reckless like this again? É?" The captain put his sword back in its sheath with a chuckle._

_"I can handle myself fine. A thank you would be nice once in a while." He gave João his usual grumpy, arrogant glare just like when he's trying to avoid the bigger picture. Especially when he was hoping he wouldn't have to talk to him until they got back to Europe. He let down his guard, feeling a pain in his arm._

_"Ehm, you're bleeding..."_

_"A- Fack meh!" He looked over to his injury with much frustration. "I hope there's bloody rhum on this godforsaken ship!" He stomped his way around the ship to look for gunpowder and luckily alcohol. Never letting anyone touch his arm whatsoever. His friend tried to approach him about it only to be met with a growl._

_"It'll get infected, just let me help-"_

_"No."_

_João had no choice but to leave him alone, much to his disapproval. Again, his concern was showing how he really felt about Arthur. He was beginning to feel uneasy. Arthur might be more unstable than he thought._

_This went on for half a day, after putting down the anchor to loot the enemy ship, finding out that it was simply a merchant ship bringing back spices and gold to Spain. They were scared to have randomly sailed in the way of pirates which caused them to attack. It was self-defense._

_João was caught thinking about that in his study. Contemplating whether maybe they shouldn't have been so merciless. His crew would argue that they attacked first even though, technically, João alarmed them. And then, Arthur... He would have said something like "It was a necessary sacrifice." or "They were looking for trouble sailing on dangerous waters like that." The truth is, João himself would have slaughtered them without a second of hesitation. Even as they begged for his mercy. Not because he hated the Spanish... it was business. Nothing personal, he would say._

_"Nada pessoal." He raised his bottle of red wine stolen from the enemy ship in the air as Arthur let himself in. "I didn't say you could enter."_

_"I didn't knock."_

_The tipsy captain smirked at his response. He leaned back farther into his lake-green pirate coat, ringed fingers supporting his red cheek as he took another sip of what he believed was a spicy wine. His eyes seemed to want to know those all too mysterious emerald ones. He was tired of all those secrets._

_"Tell me... Arthur... What's your story?"_

_"I didn't come here for that." Arthur stayed close to the door._

_"Then what did you come here for exactly? I'm getting tired of trying to guess who you are or what you want." His expression darkened into something vile. It was rare to see João like this and Arthur hoped to God it was only because of the alcohol._

_"...I came for a drink. With the Capitão. That's all." He raised a brow to see if this would calm his friend. João always loved it when he spoke his language, even when it was just a few words. "May I?" He pointed to an empty chair close to João's desk._

_He was answered with a nod. Then, poured him a big glass of wine._

_"Looking to get me drunk enough to tell you my whole life story?" He chuckled lowly._

_"Não. Just enough to get you to loosen up." The Portuguese squinted with malicious intent._

_"...Liar." He whispered as he took his first sip. "Hm.. Not bad. I still prefer your wines." He returned the smile to his friend, taking another, larger sip._

___________________

_Flashback_

_**The sound of shuffling sheets were heard as the captain went through some papers and letters. The Englishman was awake. Confused and a bit on edge he stood up, ignoring waves of pain going through his head. João rushed over to stop him, leaving his coat and weapons behind him where papers fell to the floor. The stranger stumbled on the ground in pain.** _

_**"Stay away!" He tried to push the pirate, but João took a step back from him. He was never concerned for strangers and hoped he was right about him before. João never cared for anyone else but his crew.** _

_**So what changed? Why him?** _

_**"I said stay away!" He yelled louder, more clearer. But it was useless, he was too weak and the pirate was stubborn.** _

_**"Por favor-"** _

_**These words made the brit snap and suddenly he was in panic. João had no idea how exactly it happened, but he was on his back face to face with the strawberry-blond stranger on top of him, holding his hands above his head.** _

_**"Antonio?! I'll kill you!"** _

_**"Wha- I'm not-" João was trying to make sense of the situation.** _

_**Who is this Antonio? What happened to him?** _

_**"Shut your face! ..." The sudden urge to throw up caught Arthur by the throat, letting go of the pirate to hurry towards a corner of the room. The rush of adrenaline mixed with his headache and confusion was spinning his head until-** _

_**"...Estranho (stranger). My name is João Henrique Lisboa." He sat up, letting the Englishman spit out whatever fluids he needed to get rid of. "I mean no harm. Promessa." He insisted that he would not lay a hand on him.** _

_**The room wasn't completely quiet since it was filled with Arthur's heavy breathing, though neither of them said anything.** _

_**Arthur slowly turned around, whipping his mouth with a shirt sleeve he wasn't wearing when the ship was sinking... he remembered that much at least. He had a long staring moment on his clothes.** _

_**"What's this?" His voice was weak, but he was more than capable of killing, that's what his eyes screamed to João.** _

_**"You were wet and cold, so I had to clothe you." He answered almost immediately so the stranger would trust him. "Now will you tell me your name?" His eyes were soft, giving Arthur no reason to hate or suspect him. And they weren't the same exact colour as Antonio's. He of all people would know. Maybe he really wasn't him. Not only that, but the ship was different ; lighter coloured wooden floors, a bigger desk with golden decor all around it, the room seemed to be larger than Antonio's private office. There were also a few empty chairs laying around and he was messier than how Antonio kept his office.** _

_**"Arthur. Arthur William Kirkland." He was still extremely cautious and hesitant, but too weak to keep his guard up so much. Besides, he didn't remember Antonio having a beauty mark under his right eye. "That... That language... it's not spanish is it?" He was almost embarrassed to ask. He knew what spanish sounded like. He had been around Spain so many times- too many times.** _

_**João laughed a little. "Não. I'm portuguese." He helped himself up and slowly forwarded to Arthur. "Por- Please, let me help you sit you back down."** _

_**"I can do it myself." The brit growled at the other as a warning to stay away.** _

_**"Alright. We are all friends here. You can trust me." He waved his hands besides his head to show he was unarmed. He stayed away from the other and waited for him to sit down.** _

_**"We're nothing of the sort. Don't make me laugh." But he did laugh. Painfully, but still chuckled.** _

_**"Good to know you're healthy."** _

_**"..." He shot a glare at the captain. "What about you? Who the bloody hell are you?" Arthur might've been in better health than when he was found but he was still clinging to his stomach and struggling with his words.** _

_**"I told you-"** _

_**"No, I mean, what the fuck are you, like some kind of conqueror? or-" His tired eyes wandered around the room to find a few hints. "...a pirate." He snickered as if he lost a game of cards where he bet his fortune.** _

_**"Sim."** _

_**"I'm fucked." He began to laugh a little louder, now thinking he hadn't escaped his nightmare just yet. Maybe it was worse now. "And I thought things couldn't get any worse."** _

_**"I promised I wouldn't hurt you, didn't I?" João was beginning to feel confused again.** _

_**Should he be anymore concerned?** _

_**"You're a pirate. How could you not hurt me?" He furrowed his brows looking deep into the captain's dark green eyes.** _

_**"Not all pirates are evil spawns of hell, Arthur." His head did how a puppy would beg for food, adding a smile for effect.** _

_**"..." The brit took a moment longer to study him and found no threat in the man. "...Fine." He looked away, with a pouty mouth. "If you're not going to hurt me, then why did you save me? How is this going to benefit you?" He crossed his arms, the feeling of nausea coming back as he was relaxing.** _

_**Now, João was truly unsure how to answer his questions. "I have absolutely no ill intentions to save you. I just... Can we talk about how exactly you got into this situation?"** _

_**"I-... prefer not." His gaze hurried away and his body tensed up. He was trying his best to forget what had happened.** _

_**The Iberian opened his mouth to try to say something, but quickly closed it. His soul was weeping for him to shut up. Let the pour man be, he thought. He instead breathed through his nose, letting go of all his thoughts and walked back to his desk. "You should get some rest then. It was probably hard on you, all that... stuff that happened. I'll wake you up tomorrow first thing." His words caught Arthur's attention.** _

_**"For what?"** _

_**"Practice."** _

____________________

_End chapter._


	2. “Dois”

_Song: History by One Direction_

_(seriously... it's a good song. Try it.)_

* * *

_After a few glasses were emptied, both of them began to blur their words as they spoke their minds. Opinions, advice... all thrown into space. João talked about his experiences as a captain and Arthur admitted to being a prisoner, though he didn't say more. The details were still vague. The ponytail brunette insisted on pouring more wine into his glass, but the other refused. They were celebrating the conquering of the spanish ship and saying goodbye, but it seemed to be enough for the brit. Although, it was hard for João to accept his departure. He caught himself thinking about locking Arthur up in his room a few times... But he knew it was morally wrong. He wasn't that bad of a pirate._

_Hands brushed over one another, empty promises of sailing the seas together forever, lustful but careful gazes shot at each other as the night slowly became early morning... João wanted Arthur and he wondered if he felt the same way. Meanwhile, Kirkland was worried about him._

_What will happen when I leave?_

_This question haunted his mind, lowering his lustful eyes, appearing concerned. Not only was he anxious, but he felt as if he owed João his life. He was the one that saved him that day. What he didn't know was that the Portuguese captain of the Gaivota Voadora (flying seagull) already calculated the times Arthur had saved his ship._

_"Arthur." João started gently. "Don't be so worried about me." He smiled._

_The aforementioned man was always caught off guard when he showed him such a warm, genuine expression. He couldn't help but smile back. Even though it may be unnoticeable-or awkward to Arthur-, he made an effort to show a piece of his heart to the man he'd admired for what he can assume were years._

_"How long have I known you for?" The brit's curiosity would lead him to a dangerous conversation._

_"You think I keep track?"_

_"I think you have a better sense of time than me."_

_They had a staring contest before bursting out in laughter._

_"Dois years." João replied happily. Then, for a moment, he thought about it. "Actually..." Arthur's gaze turned serious as his brows furrowed. "It would have been so if you stayed a little longer."_

_The atmosphere switched, just like that. The brit looked at his empty glass, then back at the captain. He brought a hand up to his face, dragging it across his features in a slow motion._

_"On second thought, I'll take another glass."_

_Concern painted João's visage._

_"Inglaterra..."_

_João and Arthur had an inside joke where they would call each other Portugal and England-or Inglaterra- because they were from there. The other sailors never understood it._

_"Pour me some." He raised his wineglass for more, not letting João have a second judgement._

_With a heavy sigh, he did. Arthur nearly drowned himself in his glass before getting into the real conversation._

_"Cuidado! Don't want you dying on me!(Careful!)" The other laughed so hard he nearly fell back from his chair. He placed his naked feet on the desk to make it seem otherwise._

_"João."_

_"Hm..?" A chill ran down his spine._

_"I think you deserve to know what happened before you found me."_

_"..." He simultaneously took his feet off and he leaned forward, surprised to hear these words from his friend. Words he wished he'd heard since the moment they met. "You sure?"_

_"Didn't you want to know...?" Arthur seemed distant. Quiet even. He spun around the wine in the space of the dim lit office, wondering if it would spill from the aggressive motion. His bright green, emerald eyes followed the liquid as he rested his chin in his palm._

_"Of course."_

__________________

_Flashback_

**_"I don't like repeating myself, Artie. Where is the Amulet!" A man asked behind the bars which held the brit hostage. The chains weren't enough for the Spaniard, he needed to keep him in a cell as well. Technically, he could've just locked him up in the prison cell without the rusty handcuffs, but that was just for his own twisted amusement. He could barely contain himself, thinking he could torture a brit whenever he wanted without ever being interrupted._ **

**_"And so do I- Don't call me that!" He spat at the brunette. His exhausted, glassy eyes reflected the reaction of his enemy ; enraged, on the verge of homicide and overall impatient. He wiped the spit from his face before signalling his guard to open the cell._ **

**_"That's right... Come and get it-" Arthur let himself have at least a little bit of fun tormenting the man he hated most in the world. He was enjoying every hit because he knew... He knew that this meant he was winning. He knew that when Antonio started swinging at him, it was because he lost more than just his patience. He'd lost men, battles, ships, weapons or precious cargo. The pain was what Arthur worried about the most. Not death. Not losing._ **

**_Simply the pain._ **

**_"If you don't fucking tell me right now, puto, I'll slit your throat." A handful of strawberry-blond hair was the only thing keeping Arthur's head up. His face was bruised to hell and one of his ribs was probably fractured._ **

**_With a weak, broken laugh, followed by a heavy coughing fit and blood spitting, the Englishman answered him. "You need me." His breaths were short and his voice was a gravely low._ **

**_"I don't need you, cabrón. I can just find someone else who-"_ **

**_"-Knows about the amulet? Heh! How do you say 'good luck' in spanish?" Arthur wasn't the type to act all high and mighty, but he was beyond fucked and couldn't care less if he died like this. "Or right, I don't give a fuck! You need me and everyone knows it. If you didn't, you would have killed me already!"_ **

**_"Shut Ap!" Antonio gave Arthur one last kick, lifting the poor man a few inches too high in the air. He tried to bring his hands to his stomach with no gain. He, instead, curled in agony, coughing a mixture of fluids._ **

**_"C-coward."_ **

**_"Como mierda. (Eat shit)" He crouched next to him, spitting on his red cheek._ **

**_\-------------_ **

**_As if the pain wasn't enough, the cold air made matters worse, he thought. The trembling made it really hard for his aching muscles to relax. He could never heal from these injuries. It wasn't just a thought, it was a promise. Though, the door of the prison cell opened with no apparent reason. It was an unusual hour, Arthur made sure to keep track of when he was being tortured- it was all he had. Keeping track of time kept him alive._ **

**_Antonio left behind the coat he usually wore ; brown, ripped and down to his knees. Instead, he wore his undergarments. The blouse, black boots and wine coloured red trousers. He was also unarmed, which alarmed the brit._ **

**_"Back for more?" He whispered with a whistling noise coming from soft, low breaths._ **

**_He was answered with nothing more than silence. Usually Antonio was yelling, slapping or insulting him, but this time it worried Arthur. The way he didn't respond or even looked at him sent bad signals to the Englishman. His expression was dark- not the usual 'dark' kind, it was simply impossible to tell what his true intentions were. Normally, Kirkland is able to read him like a book._ **

**_His movements were almost in slow motion. Every step he took towards Arthur would make his heart beat faster. Every action his hands made seemed to send a shiver down Arthur's spine._ **

**_"W-What are you--" He was cut off by a throb in his lungs. "--doing, wanker!" His eagerness was stronger than his body as he wanted a reaction from the other. That's when he noticed it. Antonio was alone. No guards accompanied him. In a panic, Arthur did his best to crawl away from him, screaming for him to stop, asking for a reason._ **

**_"...Everyone leaves me. Everyone hates me." His hand reached Arthur's left cheek before it was shaken away aggressively. "I just want it all back. That... that amulet is all I have left-"_ **

**_"I don't care!"_ **

**_"I know you feel the same as me."_ **

**_"You-"_ **

**_All of a sudden, the throb was gone, his body went numb and he froze in place. His mouth stayed in the shape of an 'o', incapable of finishing his sentence. His back was stuck to the wooden wall behind him, keeping his legs as close as possible. His eyes widened when he finally saw the expression Antonio was wearing ; drunk and broken like him. He was a mess, bags of sleepless nights under his yellow-ish, green eyes, messy hair... The list of things that were wrong with this image was endless. But the thing that attracted Arthur's attention the most was the bandage around his left wrist._ **

**_"You're cold." He muttered. "But your skin is so soft. Did you ever notice how cute your freckles were across your face?"_ **

**_What the fuck..? What the fuck? "What the.. Fuck?"_ **

**_"Those eyes remind me of someone else's. She left me so long ago. It drove me to the edge. I told her I would swim across the ocean for her. I would do anything for her and even die for her." He hinted a faint smile just as it dissolved into sadness. "But it wasn't enough for her. She told me I was crazy, that she hated me. So I-" He took a deep breath, biting his bottom lip in the process. "I kept her, just like I did you."_ **

**_Arthur did nothing, said nothing. His silence was enough to send him a clear message. 'You are a crazy piece of shite.'_ **

**_"It killed her." He glared at Arthur. Antonio reached for one of the other's legs and yanked him closer._ **

**_"No- Leave me be!" He tried kicking him, but his body was too weak and the captain's hold was too strong._ **

**_"I miss her so much."_ **

**_"Yeah, no shite, you killed her!"_ **

**_This last statement earned him a sharp slap across the face._ **

**_"I didn't. She killed herself. She preferred being with death than with me." The Spaniard grasped at Arthur's jaw, making it impossible for him to speak any further. "You should show me some respect." He stared him down like a predator. "I'm taking you up to my private study to take better care of you."_ **

**_That didn't seem to reassure the brit. If anything it terrified him._ **

**_"Lo siento, amor mío... Perdóname. (I'm sorry, my love... forgive me.)" He whispered into Arthur 's ear. The pure smell of rhum was enough to make anyone as drunk as him. Although he did his best to fight him, Arthur was knocked unconscious._ **

________________

_"...So... What did he do to you exactly?" João had taken a moment during Arthur's story to sit closer to him. He was face to face with his friend, knees barely touching. He had put his glass of wine away to listen to him carefully. Of course his sensitivity was gone, asking such a thing was out of the question for anyone sober._

_"A lot." The Englishman kept his gaze locked with the other for a moment, taking one last sip of his drink. "It went on for probably months. Or weeks... At that point, I started losing track of time." His eyes fell to the floor, almost in defeat- embarrassed that he had given up back then._

_"I didn't care anymore."_

_João wanted to say something, but even though he could have, he felt out of place and let his crew member finish. He didn't do so without forwarding in his seat. Only a few inches away from each other, knees connecting and hands close._

_"He took me and I gave in to his forceful ways." He closed his eyes as his mind was abused by the past. A shudder was noticed by the other. "The way he looked at me. The way he touched me. The way he spoke to me- whether it was in spanish or in english... I hated it. I still..." His mind drifted and, suddenly, he was lost. Green orbs looking for anything to distract his head._

_A pair of warm, comforting hands carefully caressed his. He snapped out of it and a feeling of peace washed over him._

_"Arthur." João was cautious, considering. "I have to say... That meant so much to me. What you told me and just sharing this with me. You're the bravest man I've ever met." His smile had never been this bright before, the brit thought. His hands were starting to squeeze him and he squeezed back._

_"W-well, we didn't exactly... 'meet'. You saved my life, Lisboa." He looked away as the colour across his face became visible to the portuguese._

_"...You have no idea how you saved me too, o amor." He mumbled words he never meant to say out loud, squeezing the other's hands tighter._

_"...Wait, What-"_

_"I'm in love with you, Arthur." João confessed. If not now, then when? "I'm sorry, but-" His voice cracked. "...I don't want you to go." He averted his gaze shamefully._

_Arthur was speechless. His shoulders stiffened as he blankly gawked at his friend. "I-..." He felt like his mind was going 200 miles per hour and his heart doubled that speed. He wasn't sure how to handle his emotions, he didn't even know if it was a good thing._

_"I think, I... I think that's what made me save your life then. You were so beautiful. Hurt and obviously messed up, but so goddamn gorgeous."_

_The blond seemed to be exploding on the inside- maybe a little dysfunctional- and, on the outside, breathing deeply to regain his composure. He truly hated himself. The words that the spanish asshole said resonated back from the depths of his heart._

_"I know you feel the same as me."_

_He shut his eyes sternly, head pounding as horrible memories came crashing back._

_"I know you feel the same as me."_

_"Screw you." Hands shook between João's, and then, so did one of his legs. "...I'm sorry." Was all he could muster to him as exhaustion and nausea hit him. He felt sick, though hopefully not from the alcohol._

_The captain didn't know what to do. His hesitation, his lack of response and body language and his heart throbbing made him feel terrible. But not as horribly as the way his 'England' needed him._

_"I shouldn't have said that, desculpa." The captain was ready to give up and leave Arthur alone, but he was stopped by the same pair of hands that were unable to move earlier. Separated by only a step since João barely made it up from his seat._

_"Don't leave me." His stare was hollow. "I think... I need you." Just as Inglaterra said his words, he vomited in front of João._

_"Shit! Seriously? You're absolutely a mess!" He wasn't really angry, but the moment was completely ruined and there was no way Arthur would remember saying any of that later. They only had half a day left until they reached Europe. There was no time for that kind of complication._

_"Apologies... Please-" He hurled again before he could say 'forgive me'._

_"Ah, dammit! Spit in the bucket, dumbass!"_

_João had to take care of Arthur all morning ; cleaning him up once he was done throwing up his insides, helping him get to bed, taking off his boots and getting him clean water. He couldn't afford to get sick as well. He didn't let his body win that battle._

_"Eu cuido de você. Até nos separamos. (I'll take care of you. Until we part.)" He moved a few strands of hair from the blond's forehead, running the back of a finger over his hot cheek and chin. He stared him down through his eyelashes with an almost disapproving grin. His head felt better once he'd freed his medium long hair from its ribbon. He ran his other hand through his hair to get that feeling of laid-backness he so longed._

_Then... he felt the waves against the ship, transporting him to his home country._

_"Que paz... (How peaceful...)"_

___________________

_End chapter._


	3. “Três”

_Paris by Else_

* * *

_Flashback_

**_"Bom dia, Arthur, time to get up. (Good morning,)" The captain entered his study where the stranger was still sleeping in his average bed. He had been taking care of his ship all night along with a few crew members to stay clear of any enemies. Sleep was out of the question. "Kirkland? Let's go. We have work to do."_ **

**_"..Hng.. Why..?" Still a bit confused--probably from the sudden change in environment-, the blond needed a moment to recover from a night of sweaty nightmares. "Was it about that... practice thing you mentioned yesterday?" He sat up slowly as an index finger and a thumb rubbed his tired eyes._ **

**_"Sim." João replied, full of energy and ready to face Arthur in a match. "Before you ask what it is, you'll need these and a sword. I'll be outside waiting for you." He threw a pair of gloves on the brit's lap, which made the other jump slightly, and rotated away from him._ **

**_"Wait-" Arthur, even more perplexed, got out of bed as his new captain started towards the door._ **

**_"Oh! I almost forgot!" He halted, raising a finger in the air and turning his head a few degrees to make sure Arthur heard him right. "In about two days we'll be arriving in the Caribbean seas. We need to make a quick stop for business." And just like that, he left his Englishman behind._ **

**_Frustrated and full of questions, the brit put on the clean clothes João was nice enough to fold for him and the gloves. Even though he was given a new blouse the night before, he had already dirtied it. A new one was much appreciated. Brown, average looking trousers, a belt and sheath and new boots were also waiting for him beside the bed._ **

**_He then stomped out of the office. Arthur was almost surprised that it wasn't locked, but that didn't stop him to continue having trust issues. As soon as he stepped out, a sword was thrown at his feet. The crew laughed seeing Arthur's shocked reaction._ **

**_"Don't be so pitiful, I know you can fight!" The taunt was met by pure rage. "...Woah la!" Captain Lisboa stepped back when his sword was almost immediately met with the blond's. "You almost got me there~" He teased the brit with a laugh._ **

**_"Are you always this chatty when you fight?" Kirkland wasn't in the least enjoying it. His scowl and the force put into the weapon was sending a clear message to the captain and his crew ; he was fighting for freedom. If he won, he would kill João and take the ship. That's what his opponent was reading in his fierce eyes._ **

**_"Are you always this serious?" His grin grew into a mischievous smile. "I guess I can't let you win if I want to survive, e?"_ **

**_"At least you're not stupid."_ **

**_Another clash between swords resonated in the excited crew's ears, some started to bet on who would win-actually betting on Arthur-, two others started to play a tune on their guitars while everyone else yelled._ **

**_Suddenly, Arthur was able to lay a kick into João's stomach, sending him back a few steps, and started to get a better chance in winning. The other pirates became quiet as the music continued. Some gasps were heard, seeing as João changed his method, getting more serious. He wasn't expecting such skill from the stranger._ **

**_"Estranho... After I win this, I wish to know where you learned how to fight like that."_ **

**_"If." His voice was deep, breathless._ **

**_"Trust me, querido, I will win. (, dear, )" João's glare earned him a small grin from his opponent._ **

_____________________

_"How about a kiss goodbye?"_

_The two were only a few feet away from each other, parting for what they thought would be for good. Arthur was wearing his weapons and all he needed for his short travel. In his brown pouch attached to his right thigh ; water and crackers. Of course he wouldn't have left without his alcohol. A nice, full, bottle of rum from the ship they stole._

_"What a charmer you are, capitão." Arthur replied with a chuckle, of course, taking it as a joke rather than a real offer. He stepped closer to João and reached for his hand, shaking it in respect. "Until we meet again, João Herique Lisboa." He beamed at him, keeping the handshake longer than anticipated._

_Lisboa's feathered hat seemed to lower before Kirland. He was a tad bit disappointed to see him leave. He knew it... Arthur didn't remember the conversation they had. Though, it was better that way. It hurt him less, but..._

_"...Are you alright?"_

_His heart was still so heavy._

_"Sim. Of course. It's hard to say goodbye to such a good friend." He would always smile at his friend no matter how he felt. Because, then, he knew Arthur could count on him. "Until we meet again, Arthur William Kirkland."_

_The brit's hand let go of the handshake first, he backed up one step quietly, nodded his head in a second attempt to show respect and finally walked away. João could only nod back. No more words were exchanged. And if 'Inglaterra' thought of looking back even for a second, João would feel a stabbing feeling in the pitch of his stomach and their goodbye would be meaningless. He knew that and didn't dare stop in his steps. It was important to keep looking forward. There was a big chance they would never see each other ever again. João was betting on it._

_Sighing heavily, the happy expression the captain was wearing faded into a blank face._

_\-----------_

_The strawberry blond had been walking through the streets of Porto, Portugal for a while. Passing as a civilian and seemingly passive enough, no one suspected him as a pirate. As he made his way to Spain, he hoped to God he wouldn't find Antonio there and wondered how João was doing. He had been around Spaniards for so long, he didn't realize how much he came to love the Portuguese. It honestly surprised him, but he finally understood how England and Portugal were able to keep such a long-lasting treaty. He felt good surrounded by his people._

_The stoned streets of Portugal made the lone stranger feel as if he was walking on blessed grounds. Less people roamed the same roads for money than in Britain, more of them sat around enjoying the days passing by. Merchants were cleaner and happy. They seemed to enjoy life. The houses he passed each had different styles despite being of the same architecture. Colourful food markets matched the clothes and the sunny skies. It really looked like a whole new world and he caught himself wondering if all of this could be taken away forever. He was confident to say he didn't want that._

_Although, soon he was going to cross the borders and sail aboard a spanish ship, all over again. Of course he wasn't excited about the sailing part, but he had no choice if he wanted to go back to England. He could have taken a boat in Porto, but then he'd have to wait for the next ride to sail all the way there--the next one was in 3 days. It was faster to take a cargo ship in Spain._

_As the night was approaching, he felt his feet aching from walking in his heeled boots all day. "Perhaps a place to stay the night wouldn't hurt..." He thought out loud as he was almost at Braga. There he would find a hostel-pub-like building with only a few people occupying the reception. None of them were drunk nor sober. None of them made any trouble either, ignoring the newcomer as he asked for a free room. His english accent caught the Portuguese receptionist off-guard and asked if he would like to drink once he made himself at home. Arthur refused and paid in advance. The man was glad to offer any extras on the house to please the brit as they had such a good relationship with the English. This surprised Arthur, but he should've known the way João treated him._

_"I can't thank you enough for the kindness, sir."_

_"Sem problema. You will always be welcomed here, estranho."_

_The man left him the keys of his room, thanked him one more time and left Arthur alone. Looking around, he found that the place was quite luxurious for its location. It might've been from living on board a ship for so long and whenever they stopped, it was never clean or appealing in the least. The brit always ended up sleeping on the ship instead. Although, he never had a problem sleeping on the sand next to João..._

_Like that one night..._

_"I shouldn't be thinking about that now." He shook his head, sitting down on his soft bed. The covers were a gorgeous lake green just like his eyes. Decorated of gold lace and white sheets. There were no colours on the walls, but the cracks gave it a historical feeling. Somehow, the rustiness of the plaited gold chandeliers didn't bother him. They just added more to the scenery._

_That's when he decided to declare Portugal his favourite place in the world. He didn't like the way England was becoming corrupt. His own people talking to each other with no respect... He never felt homesick of his country. He never felt like he belonged anyway. But he did start to feel homesick. He missed Gaivota Voadora and its crew. He missed João._

_How could he go back, he asked himself. If he did, he wouldn't be able to face his people or his country ever again._

_"That wouldn't be so bad."_

_What about my family?_

_"I could move here..."_

_You don't speak fluent portuguese._

_"I can learn."_

_It's too late to go back to João. He's long gone now._

_His eyes shut as his thoughts began to spiral nonstop. He was sure of his choice when he was still sailing with João--_

_"Was I really?"_

_The truth is, he was never supposed to nor really wanted to sail in the first place. He didn't even know how to swim properly, so why did he want to go back so badly? He had learnt so much with his portuguese friend and the rest of the crew. They were patient, gentle and rough at the right times, funny and talented. The nights they enjoyed celebrating the clear skies with music and rum. The days they spent risking their lives side by side like brothers as their captain steered them to safety through deadly, roaring storms. They all trusted Arthur with their lives the moment he set foot outside of the office that day._

_"Ah, that day... Yes, I remember it like it was yesterday." He spoke softly to himself as his eyelids fluttered shut while the sun turned into the moon._

_____________________

_Flashback_

**_Just like that, João tricked Arthur with a move he had learnt from a certain wise sailor he met long before he became captain. His opponent's sword was ripped away from his hands and a push was all he needed to make him fall on his ass, defeated._ **

**_Completely astonished, Arthur gapped at the victor. He was expecting him to open his throat with the sharp end of his weapon, except he was met by the stretch of a hand._ **

**_"You did excellent." João panted._ **

**_"You're not going to kill me?" The brit hesitantly took his hand, still wide eyed._ **

**_"How many times will I have to say it? I don't want to hurt you." His tone seemed exasperated, but deep down he too wouldn't have trusted Arthur if the roles were reversed. Then again, if Arthur were a pirate, he wouldn't have saved João. As he helped him up, the crew began clapping for the obvious victor. They also praised the Englishman for his skills._ **

**_"..." He closed his mouth, taking back any form of protest he might have and grinned at his captain. "Alright. You've pretty much proven yourself. But I won't let my guard down any time soon."_ **

**_João laughed at his comment. "If you wish to leave when we arrive at our first stop, then you are welcomed to. I just wanted you to get back on your feet."_ **

**_"I have to ask..."_ **

**_Everyone except Lisboa and Kirkland dismissed themselves from the match and got back to work. The sun had just risen a few hours ago, but the wind wasn't strong and the heat was making the sailors a bit uneasy. It was dangerous to stay in sight of the scorching sun. Though, that was a good sign. They were close._ **

**_"Something wrong?" The captain took his hat from the rusty nail it was hanging from, as well as his long green coat. Then, while putting away his sword, he gave Arthur his full attention._ **

**_"Not really. I was wondering if you would've done the same for a Spaniard or a Frenchman?" The blond walked over to his sword and repeated the other's action._ **

**_"Of course not." The reply was choked between laughs. "You looked different from the usual pirates I've encountered and seemed pretty beat up."_ **

**_"Were there any survivors in the water?"_ **

**_"..." João looked for some kind of sign on that pale face. He couldn't read him. "Venha." He passed Arthur with the wave of fingers translating to 'follow me'. On their way up to the quarterdeck, where he took control of the helm from his second in command, the stranger complied without a word. "There was nothing to sort through to look for survivors. Everything had already... How do you say em ingles?"_ **

**_"Sunk?" The Englishman helped with the rise of an eyebrow._ **

**_"That's it!" João winked at Arthur as a thank you._ **

**_"Are you sure there was no one else with the ship? You do know that dead bodies float... You didn't even bother to check?" Kirkland was insisting for a reason, but he could see that the portuguese was getting annoyed._ **

**_"...We didn't bother to look." He wasn't exactly able to explain it to the other and struggling with the language didn't help. "Like I said, everything was gone. Only you and pieces of wood, floating."_ **

**_"And you want me to trust you..." He crossed his arms, acting half his age._ **

**_"I'm a pirate, Arthur! I'm not a savior-"_ **

**_"But you saved me."_ **

**_João was put back in his place, all of a sudden acting half his age as well. The crew wondered if they should really let them handle the ship's navigation._ **

**_"I did. So maybe you should be grateful for it."_ **

**_"..." Arthur honestly didn't want to fight for real, especially knowing he wasn't able to beat him. He wasn't exactly in the best shape either. "I don't know how to say it."_ **

**_"You don't know how to say thank you...?" The captain turned his head furrowing his brows, wondering if he really heard right. He was already doubting his hearing. His eyes stared him up and down._ **

**_"Teach me."_ **

**_João didn't take long to realize he was purposely misleading him as a joke._ **

**_"Obrigado. You say 'obrigado'." He turned his head back towards the horizon, letting the warm breeze lead his lips up, listening to the song of seagulls. A strong feeling of peace calmed him knowing his new friend was also calming down._ **

**_"Orridado. (badly pronounced)"_ **

**_A chuckle escaped the portuguese._ **

**_"We'll work on that."_ **

**_"Shut up, I made an effort." His cheeks warmed up until a bright colour was visible._ **

**_"Obrigado, Inglaterra."_ **

______________________

_A strange figure seemed to be following the brit for hours since he had crossed the Spanish borders. Arthur had a bad feeling ever since. As soon as he stepped into the other country, a shiver ran down his spine as if he knew something were to happen. Normally he would face the problem without hesitation, but he wasn't on board of the Gaivota Voadora anymore. He had to keep a low profile._

_Though the figure was nowhere near the Englishman, he was still able to keep track of his steps and find him no matter where he went. As paranoid as a person can get, Arthur tried to take detours and walk through crowded places, but it didn't seem to keep the stranger off his tracks. He didn't have time to waste on something like that. He had to make it to the docks and get on the earliest ship. His destination was England and he couldn't let anyone stop him. Barely making it to Ourense in one day, Gijon was beginning to look unreachable._

_I can't stop now, even with the night approaching... I'll never make it. His mind was pounding for him to go on, though his body prayed for a few more hours of sleep._

_"Not in Spain." He mumbled to himself as the crowded areas became quiet. The difference between the two Iberian nations was day and night. As beautiful as Spain may be, it was not Arthur's cup of tea. The people of Spain were not welcoming._

_Go back, go back-- his heart screamed. He couldn't... It was too late now. One more day and he could call himself at home._

_Although he was eager to go back to his home country, to Plymouth and then straight to London, the night had different plans. Once the last window of the last house he passed slammed shut behind him, he was taken into a darker part of the street._

_"No-!" His mouth was covered by a piece of cloth and an unknown smell forced him into slumber. He wouldn't remember what the black figure looked like._

_\-------_

_Heavy eyelids slowly started to bat open as he heard noises of negotiation. His vision was still blurry, but he could hear them clearly._

_"...British, huh?"_

_"I think he might be from the royal navy, Señior."_

_A Spaniard was making a deal with some other stranger who sounded probably german or some other. He'd never heard of this accent before. As for the Spaniard, he didn't recognize the voice, but something about the way his outfit looked seemed familiar. He kept his mouth shut to make sense of the conversation._

_"You think? This is important. Is he or is he not." The taller male began to raise his voice, stepping closer to the spanish man._

_Intimidated, the man gulped before answering him. "No--no, I know. I know him. A french guy paid me a lot of money to get him on board a spanish ship before. I don't remember his name..."_

_"The french guy or the spanish guy?"_

_"Què?"_

_"Which name did you forget?" Arthur could see that the taller man was shaking the other by the collar. He seemed to be losing precious time over this conversation._

_"Both! Both!"_

_"Well, start remembering!"_

_"Okay! Okay... I think... the french guy's name was... Francis? And the spanish guy... uuh...." The Spaniard was thrown to the floor aggressively. "Ayii! Cabrón!"_

_"Shut yer mouth." The other man noticed Arthur was awake, walking up to the kidnapped brit to grab at his waist and threw him over his right shoulder. "I'll just leave with him. My captain wants him on his ship now."_

_"Mhh!" Despite his hearing and his vision finally coming together, Kirkland couldn't speak. His hands were tied together by an old rope as well as his feet._

_"What about my money, señior?!"_

_"Don't test me." The man never looked back to the other, but the Englishman could tell the Spaniard was enraged. Though, he couldn't do anything since the strange man could probably kill him easily. The other placed a pipe in his mouth and walked away in the opposite direction from where Arthur was heading. Not only that, but he also recognized where he was going next._

_With the low energy he had, he still tried his hardest to fight the beast of a man transporting him. His screams were ignored and muffled. No one could help even if they wanted to. The brit cursed himself for falling for something so idiotic. He had a bad feeling ever since he stepped foot in Spain, of course this had to happen... again. Except this time it happened here, not in England._

_While he was taken to another part of the country, Arthur tried to analyze the stranger. Pale looking skin, platinum-blond hair styled wildly, wearing a long blue and white scarf... He couldn't get a good reading on his accent nor his facial expressions since he was facing his ass and legs. Though, he could tell he was a pirate._

_Francis... Now that's a name I never thought I'd hear again. His efforts were useless of course, so he calmed down and thought of a plan. Calculating every way out carefully until the sun rose. As he felt his body switch off, the tall, brute of a man slowed his steps. Arthur barely noticed until he stopped. A presence was felt from behind him. The pipe smoker was facing someone._

_"And here I thought I'd never see him again."_

_That voice. It couldn't be._

_Trauma hit his spine like electricity and he regained the energy he needed to kick the monster in his face. It was a dangerous move considering he couldn't exactly escape, but that was enough for Arthur to jump off his shoulder as the taller crouched in pain. The Englishman only fell to the ground, dirtying his clothes from a puddle of mud. Antonio's henchman bit his tongue in the process and the pipe fell with Arthur. He was beyond pissed, but through all the chaos Arthur created, the devil's laugh poisoned the air._

_"He hasn't changed!"_

_Not again, not again! His thoughts and memories tormented him. He caught himself wishing for João to come save him, shaming himself for being so weak minded. His eyes grew two sizes, though quickly squinted into anger. He wasn't going to let Antonio imprison him again. Not ever._

_This time he had a plan._

_"You're not going away that easily, Artie."_

_Even though he had a pan, he couldn't help shivering in disgust whenever he heard his voice, the nickname or his boots stepping near him. His heels were like any other pirate's, but it just sounded different when Antonio walked with them._

_"Good job, returning him to me, Abel. You'll be greatly rewarded as always." He grabbed at Arthur's back collar, dragging him across the filthy ground to the back of his black Andalusian horse. Unfortunately, Arthur had no choice but to let him take him._

_\------------_

_The brit was not able to afford a horse for his travels and regretted not asking João more money before leaving. He would've made it faster instead of asking for rides and walking alone to his final destination._

_And so, the dance continued._

__________________

_Flashback_

**_Hands behind his back, hair waving in the wind, his noble attire fit his attributes perfectly. The deep blue complimented his clear ivory skin tone and the freckles spreading across his body. Skin tight white tights under cream-coloured trousers didn't seem to be all that uncomfortable ; his small black shoes were. His neck was wrapped like a gift with garments under the coat. All eight buttons were attached from his lower abdomen to his lower neck. His posture kept others on their feet as he emitted a strong sense of arrogance and confidence._ **

**_He stood in front of the royal ship, feeling a little nervous about the trip, but ready to take on the world. He kept a vacant facial expression as his men and royal guards prepared the ship with barrels of gunpowder, boxes of food and clean water._ **

**_"We're all set, sire." One of his stern guards warned him after saluting respectfully. He had a hand on his sheath at all times as well as his arquebus carefully placed in his right arm._ **

**_"Then, shall we?" He turned his attention to the man next to him._ **

**_"After you, your majesty." He gracefully stretched his hand in front of Arthur, bowing halfway through with the other hand behind his back. The lace arm sleeve from his baby blue coat hung out like feathers of an angel._ **

**_The brit quietly nodded to both of them and, with a light grin, walked up the gangway._ **

**_Francis Jean-Louis Bonnefoy was a french nobleman who loved to spend his fortune on useless things, though never seemed to become bankrupt from his grand gestures. One of those grand gestures was to bribe the king to send his most capable son on a trip. The so-called trip was vaguely explained as a test run to a country to discover new things and bring back gold and slaves. The king was happy to oblige as long as he received the lot. He was a fine and beautiful man on the exterior ; medium long natural blond hair, wavy and always soft, pure skin, graceful hand gestures and sometimes a little more on the feminine side. He was not a man to be underestimated. Though, on the inside, the Frenchman was tricky, cunning even, and had done business with pirates in the past. Things no one knew about ; such as slave auctions, drug dealings and smuggling alcohol. He had sailed around Europe and through the Atlantic many times. Enough to say he knew the world through and through-- though, it wasn't discovered in its entirety yet. Francis was praised everywhere he went and quite popular to pirates. Everyone had heard of him, including Arthur and his family. Not only that, but he knew Francis personally._ **

**_He and the Frenchman had met a few times before when still children. One would say they grew up together. Although England never liked France, kings sought an alliance with France in the past and Henry VII as well right around the time Henry VIII, Arthur's younger brother, was born. They never fully got along with each other, actually Arthur was quite mean to the Frenchman. Not that Francis was any different._ **

**_Bonnefoy kept a certain distance with the brit simply from losing himself in his own ideas. Probably going through his plan for the hundredth time. If he messed up in the least, he could be in serious trouble. No money in the world could buy his way out of selling a crowned king of Wales--most importantly, the son of Henry VII. He would be hanged by his neck and thrown into the gutters where his body would rot until hell finally came to claim his soul._ **

**_Shaking his head clear from the bad thoughts, he hemmed loudly which caused Arthur to turn back, examining his "friend". Francis had a worrying smirk on his face, sending a deep terrifying feeling in the Englishmen's heart. His guard had also looked back, regretting so since his back was facing the real threat. A noise coming from Arthur's blind side made him revert back in panic. His royal guardian's throat was being emptied of its blood a feet away from him. The blade that ended his life came from the hand of a filthy Spaniard wearing a big smile. Proud of his actions, he stared at Francis who stayed in his position._ **

**_"...D-Do something! Call for help-" The prince was shaking in shock, looking for anything he could do. But when his eyes caught the scenery of his ship, it had already been conquered by strange men. It was an ambush. It all happened so fast._ **

**_And so quietly._ **

**_"Désolé, mon ami. (Sorry, my friend.) It seems my job here is done." The french snake still seemed so beautiful, even as he did something so despicable. "Here you go, you did good." Francis handed the Spaniard a sac of silver coins in which made the man happier._ **

**_"Merci, señior." He made the effort to thank him in french before shaking his hand and leaving the gangplank to go about his day. Not many civilians were around--technically none-- since it was supposed to be a private sailing for the first Prince of England._ **

**_The prince was incapable of moving. He was frozen in time, feeling every emotion at the same time. As he was about to run for it, Bonnefoy moved a hand to his pale cheek, stroking it gently and kissed the other cheek. The other stayed immobile, mouth gaping and tears rising. The sheer betrayal was not enough for Francis. He added words, as soft as Arthur's mother used to whisper to him before bed. "Bon voyage, Arthur~ (Happy travels)" He stalled for a pirate to pin a bag over his head and hit him with the handle of his handgun._ **

**_Arthur William Kirkland, born on June 4th of 1482, was declared dead in april, 1502, age 18. His body might've never been found, but Francis made up a fake sob story believable enough for the king to mourn his death._ **

_"I have to go back home. I have to tell them..."_

__________________

_  
End Chapter_


	4. “Quatro”

_Moonlight Sonata_

_by Rodrigo Escoba_

* * *

_"It's the third time he's done this in the past hour!" The Spaniard yelled, as he got off his horse to grab at Arthur. The brit had tried escaping by making himself fall off from the stallion. His plan could only work if Antonio was already irritated once they arrived at the ship._

_Third time's the charm, his mind repeated._

_He was right. The pirate slapped the tied up Englishman with the back of his hand. "I'm wasting my time with you, cabròn." His nerves hit a tone in his throat that sounded like a voice crack. When he was done, he tied Arthur to the back of his horse._

_Since his legs were also still tied together, they had to dangle on one side while his right shoulder touched Antonio's back. His hands rested on his lap, sometimes holding on to the back of the saddle._

_"Why didn't you do that before?" Abel was growing impatient, waiting behind the two with arms resting on top of the saddle._

_"Shut up, Abe."_

_The dutch rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut. Once they were ready again, the captain and henchman continued their ride with no more interruptions. Arthur wasn't exactly comfortable and his body was forced to lean against Antonio's back. If he moved away, he could fall and badly injure himself. If he placed his hands in a different position, he could scare the horse--which could lead to his death if he wasn't careful._

_But he was. He had calculated everything right. He knew that eventually Antonio would attach his hands to the saddle as it was. The first two times he purposely fell was to collect a sharp enough rock to cut the rope around his hands._

_One step at a time._

_Carriedo was beginning to suspect the brit. His lack of protest was rubbing him the wrong way up until he started forgetting about it when they made it to the ship._

_"Finally. And it's dark..." Unhappy with the time, he hurried off his Andalusian companion._

_Arthur had enough time to break the ropes, though he didn't reveal it yet. The horse was suddenly uneasy, stepping back and forth until the prince glared at Antonio with a wide smirk and hit the horse with the rock. He rapidly turned on his stomach to hold on to the horse as it sprung in shock. Arthur was strong enough to stick tight, but could potentially fall if he didn't get on the saddle._

_"¡No!" The pirate yelped trying to grab hold of the reins. His panic was not hiding all of the rage he was feeling, but he had to calm the animal before actually getting Arthur off. The horse was uncontrollable, the neighing and rearing was dangerous. In all the comotion, the brit's ropes around his legs and feet nearly snapped, loosening the knot. "Abel! Do something!"_

_Unfortunately for the pirates, Kirkland was quicker and had used the last of his strength to raise his body up on the brown saddle. The horse was still rearing in confusion, but Arthur was able to grab the reins and take complete control. He carefully placed his feet through the stirrup iron, firmly resting them on the pads and ordered the animal to gallop away._

_"Mierda!" Antonio was seething. He didn't take a moment to think and jumped on top of Abel's horse. "Don't let him escape! Get the guns!" He didn't care if Arthur was on his horse, he couldn't let that peste go. He needed him, he thought._

_The Englishman knew he was being followed. He knew he had to ride as fast as possible, though the adrenaline was dissolving and the lack of sleep hit him. "C'mon, c'mon! Not now! Stay awake!" He slapped his cheeks, breaths faster than his heartbeat, he couldn't help but look behind. "Fuck! Shit, shit, shit! Wanker!"_

_"You can't escape me, Artie!"_

_Antonio was only a few meters away from him._

_"I'll kill the horse if I have to!"_

_"Of course you would." Arthur mumbled, turning left and right trying to lose him in a nearby forest. Luckily for him, the forests in Spain were thick enough to lose a ship and the darkness of the night would help him get more distance. Determined, Arthur led the horse through more dangerous paths of the woodland. Hopefully, the captain wasn't as familiar with the grounds as he was with the seas. As expected, he could feel Antonio was slowing down. His voice and threats were more distant. A few sounds of missed gunshots were heard before he was eventually met with silence._

_He didn't stop._

_______________

**_The Amulet._ **

**_A powerful charm believed to protect all from evil and enemies._ **

**_Only fools doubt such magic._ **

**_Only noblemen were in possession of it._ **

**_Kings, Queens, Princes and Princesses._ **

**_Some believed it held eternal life._ **

**_Eternal Beauty._ **

**_Though, it brings only death and misfortunes._ **

**_Although they were just stories, a legend, many tried to get their hands on The Amulet._ **

**_Only to perish._ **

**_Dying a pointless death._ **

_________________

_"I need it." The Spaniard squinted at Arthur's disappearing body. He couldn't risk getting himself lost along with the prince. So he went back to the crew along with Abel. "I knew something was up..."_

_Little did Antonio know, Arthur didn't have the amulet._

___________________

**_Arthur's POV thoughts :_ **

**_When I was a child, my mum told me stories of men who had tried to chase after that forsaken amulet. It wasn't a story parents usually told their kids at bedtime. But my parents were fearful of ignorance. I was going to become king one day--and I did. I was crowned king of wales at 9 years old and the next crowning would be when my father would pass. That was thrown into the river when Francis betrayed me, of course. That bloody frog was out to get me from the start, I know it._ **

**_Anyway, the amulet was not exactly given to me. My family had owned it for decades and they were supposed to tell me where it was hidden when I became king of England after my father. Obviously, that would be transcended to my younger brother, Henry. So when I was sold by Francis to be tortured by that Spanish bastard, I truly meant it when I warned him I didn't know where it was. He never once believed me. Not a single word I said mattered. I never broke either, never begged for his mercy. A prince isn't supposed to. My people would probably think otherwise..._ **

**_I think the boggar knew deep down that I was telling the truth. He just loved torturing me so much that he kept me._ **

**_But there's a part of me that felt like it knew... How can I explain this..? Mum always said that the legend was some kind of riddle and that I already knew where it was. But it makes no sense. How can I know where something is if I never even found it in the first place? A bloody riddle... Bullocks._ **

**_Still..._ **

**_The stories, the riddle-- or legend or whatever--, kept spinning in my head while I was held captive then. I thought I would have enough time to figure the damn thing out, but I never bloody did. If anything, it just made me feel worse. I tried looking at it every way possible, but it just never made sense. It's just a legend. No matter how you look at it, magic doesn't exist._ **

**_I figured at least that much._ **

**_If there was such a thing as magic... Then the amulet would have worked right?_ **

**_Something else I remember my mother saying was that it would protect me everywhere I went. Even if I didn't own it or wear it yet, I would still be under the charm of protection. So why? Why was I kidnapped? Why did I nearly die more times than I have fingers? Why did I get betrayed?_ **

**_I will never believe in these stories and neither should Antonio._ **

**_I know I'm repeating myself at this point, but why was he so obsessed with it? Because someone he loved died? Well, boohoo, everyone dies! It was his own fault for driving her to it anyway._ **

**_And the amulet doesn't bring people back from the dead. So he just wanted the amulet for protection. Protection from what? He's a bloody pirate. He doesn't need it. Or maybe I'm wrong and it does bring people from the dead? Who knows..._ **

__________________

_Arthur wanted to find a safe place to sleep in the forest as his body became numb and his eyes fell shut a few times. He felt as if he could pass out at any given moment. Though, he had to keep going. He was close to crossing back to Portugal. So close._

_The horse neighed in shock when his body hit the floor. Nearly causing a concussion. He shook his head in panic, shushing the horse to be quiet once he had gotten on his feet. The fall had injured his left foot, though, it wasn't the time to think about the pain. He went through worse before, he was capable of walking it off._

_"It's alright--hey, hey... hush." He pet its coat in a circular motion, successfully relaxing the animal. Although, it didn't take long for the latter to begin to panic again. He reared, sending Arthur back and hurting his foot further, and galoped in the opposite direction. "No! I need you! Please-- Dammit, ow." He tried to get up, but this time it was too noticeable to ignore. The strawberry blond held his straining foot as he muttered complaints to himself. Thinking he was alone, he let out his weaknesses. Tears of frustration raced down to his chin. A soft sob was heard through the trees. Old forgotten souvenirs crushed his spirit. Images he never thought he would see again seemed to blur his vision into an illusion, but he couldn't tell what it was before he fainted from the pain. Of course, not just the pain ; sleep deprivation, overload of adrenaline, anxiety..._

_It seemed as if someone was observing the brit from behind a trunk of a tree. They came out only when they were certain he was out. There was no way Arthur would wake up unless he was cared for. Immediately. His health was in critical condition. The stranger knew._

_With careful, mute steps, the small physique approached the unconscious man._

_________________

_The captain was pacing the wooden floor of his ship. He had completely lost his temper. The crew was nervous to even approach him. That is, until Abel lost all patience and grabbed his shoulder, stopping Antonio in his repeated tracks._

_"What's the plan exactly?" He wasn't always this blunt, but just like his captain, they all had a goal and weren't going to give up. Especially since the crew needed directions._

_Carriedo looked around, noticing every hesitant gaze on him. Their eyes averted when he would catch them staring for too long. "...I have no clue." He admitted defeat too early. His angry, tired eyes glared in front of him--no era specifically, simply ahead of him. His tone was hushed, though Abel's sharp ears caught his words._

_He swung a fist into Antonio's jaw. His body fell back, but he was still on his two feet. Everyone gasped, staying clear of the two. The captain, not wearing his hat nor his coat, appeared like any other pirate on the ship. Although, he wasn't treated like the others, hence he wouldn't appreciate that hit._

_"Get your shit together, Anto. What is the plan?" Somehow, the Dutchman managed to stay calm. He wasn't easily intimidated, especially that he knew the Spaniard very well._

_"..." The other refused to speak. His hand held his now bruised cheek as he spat blood from his mouth._

_They both kept a glare as deadly and stubborn as the other._

_After a few moments, Antonio laughed. "You're right! I have to keep my shit together." He took out a knife from his boot and scarred his henchman right under his left eye--to everyone's disbelief. Blood followed the blade's singular motion. Though, Abel didn't flinch in the least. Or even even blink._

_Swallowing back his pride the taller man knelt down in front of his captain and placed his right hand over his chest. He lowered his head and sighed heavily. "Me disculpo. (I apologize)" He made the effort to speak in Antonio's language for the extra mile. He truly hoped to be forgiven._

_"And for what exactly?" Carriedo couldn't care less about the punch and his henchman knew that. He crouched down to Abel's level, lifting his chin up with the sharp end of his knife. His menacing grin iced the atmosphere around them._

_"For letting the prince escape. It was my fault, I should have been more careful." His dead eyes didn't show a single hint of emotion, reminding Antonio why he had kept him so close all this time._

_"Bien." The Spaniard stood back up. "Listen, amigos. Vamos a encontrar a la zorra francesa y él trabajará para nosotros. Y si se niega, lo haremos nosotros. (We're going to find the french bitch/slut and he will work for us. And if he refuses, we'll make him.)"_

_The crew members regained their usual attitudes and chanted happily. Antonio knew exactly where to find Francis and he wasn't going to stop until he had him on his ship._

_"Caribbeans?"_

_"Caribbeans." the brunet replied to his second in command still wearing his grin and walked to his private office._

_They sailed to the caribbeans shortly after getting ready. For now, Arthur would be safe._

_Or so he hoped._

_________________

_"Capitão? ... Capitão." A voice was not received on the captain's end until he was tapped on his shoulder. "Capitão, estamos no Caribe há muito tempo. A tripulação está entediada e bêbada... Fiquei um pouco preocupado. (Captain, we've been in the Caribbeans for far too long. The crew is bored and drunk... I've been a little worried.)"_

_João snapped out of his concentration, letting go of the letter he had been reading for the past hour. He wasn't absorbing any information whatsoever. "Ah- bem... (well...)" His green orbs directed towards his guitar hanging from the wall._

_"É sobre o Arthur, não é? (It's about Arthur, isn't it?)" João looked back at the other's perplexed face._

_"...Sim. Você pode me culpar? (Can you blame me?)"_

_"Não. Mas precisamos de ordens. Se ficarmos aqui por mais tempo, a marinha real vai- (No. But we need orders. If we stay here any longer, the royal navy will-)" The sailor seemed to insist his captain to the limit. He was cut off by an annoyed glare while João reached for his neck. Though he didn't actually do anything, the man took a few steps back in fear._

_"Não mencione a marinha real na minha presença, Leonor. (Don't mention the royal navy in my presence, Leonor.)" His squinty eyes dared the sailor to add anything about the topic. He didn't. He simply apologized and walked away to get drunk with the rest of the crew._

_"...Maybe things would have been different if I would have confessed that night." The annoying emotion he felt melted away as he got up and grabbed his instrument. Leonor was right, even he had to admit it. The ponytail brunette whispered a song to himself as he thought of the special night he and Arthur had spent alone on that island. It was almost magical ; the way they stared at each other, the way Arthur laughed and smiled, the way the stars shined... And plainly put how João Henrique fell in love with his Inglaterra. They didn't exactly exchange deep stories about themselves, but spoke about dreams they had, about a place in the universe or about how beautiful the Atlantic was._

________________________

_Flashback_

_Listen to "I won't give up"_

_by Jason Mraz_

_Right now. It's worth it._

**_The two members of the Gaivota Voadora took a short vacation away from their drunk crew on an abandoned island not too far from where they left the ship. There were no signs of enemy vessels around and it seemed as if no one had set foot on the white sand in a long time. It was good enough for João and Arthur._ **

**_João took out two bottles of rum and his precious instrument from the boat they had settled on the beach. Arthur was already close to the greener parts of the island ; palm trees, different kinds of plants, tall grass and bird chants drew the prince's attention. Though, he would be stopped by his captain who wanted to stay closer to the water._ **

**_"I'll teach you how to dance like the women in my country. Venha." He placed a hand behind Arthur's back to lead him to a perfect spot._ **

**_"I will not dance like a woman!" The brit protested, though it only made the portuguese laugh._ **

**_"Come on, for me?"_ **

**_Arthur never really gave in to João's inviting tones, but since they were alone--and honestly, the brit was starting to grow weak when he would bat his eyelashes like that--he thought it wouldn't hurt to humour him. "Alright, but only after a few drinks. And I'll need you to teach me first."_ **

**_"I'm sure you're a natural." A finger made its way through Arthur's strawberry blond coloured hair, making him blush lightly._ **

**_The night was clear and full of stars. Kirkland had never seen such a beautiful sight. But not as beautiful as the way his 'Portugal' smiled at him._ **

**_João was right though. It didn't take long for Arthur to pick up what he was showing him and they were able to dance in sync. Then, it was time for the "guitarra" to join the brit. The brunette played as he sang and kept his foot work in sync with his friend. They laughed, sometimes messing up, but kept a bright smile as they enjoyed each other's company._ **

**_After a while, though, they began to slow down. It was a lot more tiring than what Arthur remembered back when he practiced at home. They both dropped on the sand, still warm from being in the sun all day. The minerals rendered the ground as soft as a pillow._ **

**_"I told you you were a natural!" The portuguese chuckled, putting away the instrument for the night, panting._ **

**_"Well, I used to practice a few steps at home--" He cut himself off, trying to keep his past a secret. "...Mostly for my mother. She insisted on lessons." Arthur didn't think too much of it. It wasn't major information and it wasn't like his people were uncultured._ **

**_"Really? So the British are talented, huh?" Lisboa was showing genuine interest in the man._ **

**_"Well... Generally speaking. Yes." His gaze shot up to the skies while João kept his on Arthur._ **

**_"How do you keep impressing me every time you teach me something new about yourself?"_ **

**_"You're too easily impressed, capitão." Kirkland snorted, making fun of him a little bit._ **

**_"Bem, quando é você. (When it's you.)" The aforementioned captain mumbled, looking up to the stars as well._ **

**_Arthur was certain he'd heard a sentence like this before and guessed what he said in his head correctly. They didn't exchange a single word for half an hour, quietly counting the constellations and slowly intertwining their fingers together. They were both too awkward to say out loud anything they were thinking and preferred keeping it for themselves._ **

**_"Arthur..." The words had slipped through his lips without intending to. João wasn't certain of how to continue his phrase._ **

**_"Hm?" The brit faced him with his big emerald orbs like shining jewels._ **

**_"..." The portuguese opened his mouth, but quickly closed it. Why did he even say anything, he asked himself._ **

**_"There's something you want to tell me, isn't there?" Arthur tilted his head to the side curiously. "You can tell me." His hand squeezed João's, successfully reassuring him that he could trust him._ **

**_The other's jaw clenched in deep thought. "Why haven't you told me anything about yourself yet?" And again, the moment was ruined._ **

**_How could João Henrique Lisboa ruin such a perfect moment? He was too afraid that Arthur wouldn't feel the same. It's not like sailors weren't getting commonly married. But confessing seemed so difficult._ **

**_"I've told you before. I don't like thinking about it, let alone talk." His hand had disappeared from under João's._ **

**_"That's not what I meant."_ **

**_"...What do you mean, then?" The brit raised an eyebrow, questioning his captain as if he couldn't find any other meaning behind his words._ **

**_"You never talk about what your interests are or what you always dreamed of." The brunette threw a casual smile at his friend, giggling at his reaction._ **

**_"Oh-... des-desculpa." Kirkland placed back a strand of hair behind his ear in slight embarrassment. The switch in languages made João bite his inner bottom lip, restraining himself from kissing him. "I guess... I do have a few interests. But I never really had a dream." Arthur seemed to become a bit distant. His tone was low. His body language meant that he was getting uneasy._ **

**_"It's okay. I bet you just haven't found one yet."_ **

**_It's more like he never really had a free mind of his own. Being prince and next in line to be the king was a stressful life. Of course, now, he was free. But he didn't know what that meant to him. Which was the main reason why he hadn't left João's side yet. He was confused, but being around his friend made him feel like he didn't need to think about anyone back home or think about being king. He knew Henry would be more than capable. Arthur wasn't worried in the least, even as he sailed with pirates. They were his family now._ **

**_"Or.... I already achieved my dream." He brought the special moment back to its original feeling with a soft smile and a gaze that could melt João's heart._ **

**_The pirate ran a hand through blond locks, this time getting a little closer to the brit and admiring his facial features. Arthur was frozen in place, but he let him play in his hair tenderly. Every move the portuguese made was slow and careful. And his Englishman made sure to give him consent with nods. They didn't need to speak, they didn't have to speak. The love and respect they had for each other was enough to make every married couple on earth jealous._ **

**_"Would you like to... kiss me?" Arthur asked, dampening his lips as a reflex._ **

**_Without a single second of hesitation, João took his opportunity. Their lips met like destiny. All his fears of not being accepted or rejected, flew away into the void. Suddenly, they were together. Lisboa's hand gently held the other's head as they deepened the kiss. Arthur didn't have the experience as he was supposed to keep the kiss for marriage before the trip, though Francis made sure it was cancelled for it. The lead was all in 'Portugal's' favor._ **

**_João broke the kiss, staring at Arthur a little longer. It was almost more satisfying to look at him than to kiss him._ **

**_"What...What will this mean?"_ **

**_The question captain Lisboa tried to avoid in his head was still asked on Arthur's side. "Let's not think about that."_ **

**_With a nod, they decided to just cuddle up to watch the stars. Naturally, Kirkland wasn't going to start holding hands or even mention it again. It was probably an inaccurate memory since a bottle had been emptied over the night._ **

**_Although, João would remember it well and in its entirety. If Arthur wanted to forget it, then he would let him. Then, things seemed so much simpler. They didn't have to think about saying goodbye or restrain their bodies from doing something so bold. Arthur had fallen asleep not long after the kiss, which led him to believe that that part was only a dream._ **

**_When the morning came, they had the same gaze, the same close bond. Nothing was ruined, but something seemed a little cold. The "dreamlike kiss" made the prince a little ill at ease. But he ignored it. João realized what Arthur was feeling, "reading the room" as if he knew him better than the world._ **

___________________

_Arthur steadily opened his eyes ; shapes coming together to reveal the inside of a home. Though, the house didn't seem human like. It was small and mossy. He hurried up in a sitting position, immediately regretting his actions when his forehead met with the ceiling._

_"Não! Não!" A small voice screamed after coming back from the outside._

_"Bloody he--" When he came to and tried to find where the voice was coming from, he jumped back away from the creature forcing his back against the wall against his bed._

_The prince had been taken by an elf-like creature known as El Duende. He was attended to inside of its little elf house. They were only a legend-- much like the amulet-- recognized in Spain and Portugal as mischievous creatures. Although, elf folklore was different in many other countries in Europe. Arthur never thought they were real until then._

_"What the fack are you?!"_

_The Duende was not impressed. He simply stood by, fuming and hoping Kirkland would quickly get over it. The creature didn't speak many words and certainly didn't speak english--which caused more panic to the brit._

_"El Duende! Dormir." The elf argued with the human to lay back down._

_"Duende-- What? Sleep...?" Arthur knew that word from both french and portuguese. It was the same and meant the same. But he couldn't understand the first part. "...This can't be possible... You're--"_

_The creature lost its tolerance, walking up to the prince and trying to lay him down himself. Still freaked out by the inhuman form, he raised his voice again with his hands flying around to protect himself. The elf was having none of it, reaching for his pouch full of a strange yellow like powder to splash in Arthur's face. It wasn't easy, but El Duende came victorious, resulting in calming the human. Nothing dangerous, just a relaxing spell. Inexplicably, the prince was numb, incapable of moving his arms, feeling nauseous and his eyelids fluttering. As if he was forced into slumber._

_"What... did you do to me..?" Arthur asked as he was moved down back into bed. The elf couldn't understand english, so he was ignored. He began to go back to his healing work, but not before placing a bucket next to the human brit. "You think I'm going to need this?"_

_The elf guessed his second question and simply waved from the side ; as if to say "trust me, you will."_

_The blond didn't have a choice but to watch helplessly in his bed--seemingly made of moss and flowers. The ground was not like any floor he'd ever seen and the interior of the house appeared to be the inside of a tree. There were rocks and stones all around the room used as tables, chairs or counters. It seemed as if the bed was specially made for him, but everything else was too small for a man over four feet tall to physically move in._

_When the creature was finished with mixing herbs together, he walked to Arthur's twisted ankle and began messaging him with the green cream. Kirkland was a little surprised, but he couldn't fight him nor feel anything. He wished he could run away, but also research the creature. His confusion had added saliva in his mouth, soon needing the bucket to throw up in._

_"Ugh, fuck... I hate throwing up." He could feel his eyes becoming heavier by the millisecond._

_"Te disse." The elf grumbled. He forwarded back to the little kitchen-like space._

_Green eyes followed him, studying every movement. His steps were penguin-like, his voice was gravely but high pitched like a parrot, his skin was a bizarre tone of grey and green, the clothes he was wearing appeared to be all from lost people's clothes--ripped and dirty--and his teeth were pointier than his ears._

_"Am I allowed to leave or are you going to keep me here forever?"_

_"..." Duende still couldn't understand the brit._

_"How do you say this again.." Kirkland thought hard, trying to remember all the words João taught him to form a sentence. "Uh, você... vai? ... uhm você vai me... manter aqui? (Are you going to keep me here?)" He was able to ask his question properly before he had to hurl back into the bucket._

_Surprised, the elf glared at him with his yellow eyes. "Para sempre? Não. (Forever? No.)" He drowned an old rag in clean water freshly picked out from the trees after a rainforest. "Mas sim. (But yes.)"_

_"W-what do you mean 'but yes'?"_

_"Testa. Testa!" The creature gave Arthur the cold, wet rag to place on his forehead, though he hadn't learnt that word yet._

_He wasn't stupid. Arthur found out that he meant to place it over his head. So he did._

_Eventually, the prince had warmed up to the elf-like creature, practicing the little portuguese he knew and studying what kind of magic or healing properties he was capable of. El Duende wasn't so fond of him. Mainly because he didn't like humans. Though, he didn't mind Arthur too much. The human didn't stay for longer than two more days until the cream completely healed Arthur's ankle. Until then, the creature kept repeating something to the prince ; "Para dentro. Magia." The brit wasn't capable of understanding what he meant even though he knew what they meant in english._

_Once the Englishman was able to walk on his two feet again, El Duende helped him out of his house. He left him a pouch full of fresh medicinal herbs and leftover cream to message if it ever stung again._

_"Obrigado, El Duende. Until we meet again." Arthur had only smiled like that around João. Now that he believed in magic, he would cherish this encounter in his life forever even if no one would believe him._

_"Sim. Adeus." The elf grumbled, walking back into his home and shutting the door behind him._

_The brit's smile faded, reminding himself that he was back in the game and still in deep danger. "I can't go back home through Spain, that's for bloody sure. Guess I don't have a choice but to go back to the shore where I came from."_


	5. “Cinco”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning before the story starts ; i placed a warning for the part where triggers are mentioned, but i will put one here as well. If you’re very sensitive to suicide, blood, stalking and sexual assault, be aware that there are heavy details of such in the fanfiction.
> 
> Edited version.

_Song : Do you wonder_

_by Khai dreams_

* * *

_Before they could commence on sailing back to the ocean, João decided to go on an afternoon walk. As the sun set and the wind arose colder, he closed his eyes to enjoy the early evening to the fullest. Many pirates roamed the streets like him. He also didn't wear his captain's outfit, looking like any other. He wanted to be free of his role. Forget about himself a little._

_"H-hey!" A voice passed João as if they had just realized they knew him, even though they didn't._

_The captain opened his eyes, hardly turning his head to see who it was. "Oi?" He didn't recognize the man, but he looked so much like him._

_The two of them took a long moment to really look at each other. They both had green eyes, brown hair--one ponytail longer than the other, but both wore a ribbon--, both Iberians... They could be mistaken as brothers or even twins._

_"Oh hell, we have to have a drink over this." The Spaniard broke the silence after blinking a few times._

_João only nodded._

________________

_"So you're a captain too? Amazing!" The portuguese raised his drink and gulped the alcohol down._

_"The only difference is the country of origin and that mole you got there." Antonio, his identity still unknown to João, joked as he too drank the rest of the liquid._

_"Man... How crazy is that?" The older brunette, João, leaned on the table, resting his chin in his palm. "So, anyway, why are you here, capitão?" He chuckled, curious about his story._

_Antonio kept a carefree expression as he looked at his empty glass, then back at his new friend. "I'm here for business. Big pirate stuff going on!" Even if he yelled this while laughing, everyone around them were wildly getting wasted and too loud to care about them. Antonio leaned on the table as well, copying his twin. "Well, it's true. If I'm being completely honest, I'm really angry. I was so close to finding where the amulet was..." Carriedo was still amused, though started to speak in a lower tone, his face darkening._

_"The amulet? You mean the legend about nobles being protected by gods or something..? You really believe in that crap?" João raised an eyebrow._

_"If pirates died trying to get their hands on it, then it's real, no?"_

_"Pirates?" He clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Surely you don't associate yourself with those pathetic no good sailors who chased after a lie their whole lives..." His eyes averted to a few men falling on top of each other, throwing punches at the other over some whore who couldn't care less about them. She had already moved on to a more handsome sailor, rubbing him places not worth mentioning._

_Antonio's silent stare brought his attention back. "Oh you really believe the stories-- My bad." João felt a little tingle of guilt for ridiculing the other's beliefs. He never meant to be so insensitive. When he went for another sip of his drink, he realized it was gone. The awkwardness returned between the two._

_"I'll get more." The Spaniard got up with both their metal cups, walking to the bar where a bunch of assholes kept yelling for the bartender to get them more alcohol. Antonio punched one of them, knocking the poor sailor out. The others tried to avenge their friend, but the captain threw some gold coins on the floor, attracting their attention to that._

_João couldn't help but laugh for a solid five minutes, the time it took for the Spaniard to get them a jug of beer._

_"We shouldn't run out for a while at least." He sat back down, filling both their cups and made a toast. "To finding our twin!"_

_"Sim!" They hit their cups together and drank nearly half of the golden booze. "So, you were talking about being here on business? Is it all related to the amulet?"_

_While the Spaniard swallowed his sip, he nodded, wiping the brew from his upper lip. "Well, it's actually a pretty long story."_

_"We got all night." The other pointed with both hands to the bar, showing off the ugly scenery they would call "a casual monday evening"._

_"De acuerdo, de acuerdo, (Alright, alright--though it also works for 'Okay/OK') if you insist." Antonio got himself comfortable, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back into his wooden chair. "I had heard of the stories of the amulet and, like you, I didn't believe it at first." He lifted his chin up, signing that he agreed with the portuguese. "But then, I fell in love with someone...and well... you can guess how that ended." His gaze seemed to drift elsewhere, making what appeared to be a look of repugnance._

_"Yeah." João's eyes also changed, thoughts going to places he was trying to avoid._

_"Well, the legend said that it can give you eternal life and beauty. Who says it can't bring someone back from the dead?" Antonio reverted back to his more cheerful self, though, to anyone, he looked morbid._

_His words hit the other like lightning. He understood why he suddenly believed in the stories. It was all he had left and the only reason why he was keeping on. João listened carefully after that._

_"So, I hired a french nobleman to get me one of those royal families' sons or daughters and he did great. We had this prince, from England, who probably knew where the amulet was hidden. He never broke, though. Kept the secret until he escaped." The pirate took another sip as João's deep green eyes widened. Everything started to make sense, right then and there. He was connecting dots like a constellation. Like pieces of a puzzle._

_But he stayed quiet. The more information, the better._

_"Yep... He escaped. Slipped right out of my hands." The Spaniard spun around the liquid in its cup, expressionless._

_"How?"_

_Carriedo's yellow-green orbs caught João's concerned expression. Something seemed off._

_"We were met with a royal navy ship and they tried to take us down, so we fought back, of course. Those british dogs never realized who we were and just thought they could get away with killing us, but obviously we came out on top." He bragged with a snicker. "But... I didn't realize that... He had gotten on board the other ship during the wreck. I had to get rid of one of my own men for doing such a poor job of keeping the prince in his room. Can you imagine?" The brunette huffed, shaking his head in disbelief._

_The more João got to know what kind of man he really was, the more he felt like leaving and going after Arthur. "So, what did you do?"_

_"I didn't do anything. There was nothing to do. The royal vessel was sinking, all their men were dead... I assumed he got killed in battle. Or at least drowned. Did you know that those putas can't even swim? And they still sail the seas." He laughed again, drinking the rest of his alcohol. He was starting to really feel the buzz._

_"If you thought he was dead, why are you here still looking for him?" Lisboa was beginning to alarm the Spaniard. He was asking too many questions instead of laughing along with him._

_He furrowed his brows, wondering if he should answer him or not. "Because he's still alive." Antonio scoffed. "Are you trying to get your hands on the brit? Is that why you're suddenly so interested? I thought you didn't believe in these stories."_

_"No, no!" He leaned back with a forced smile. "I'm just really invested in what you're saying~ You're just a good story-teller, is all." A drop of sweat fell from his forehead, a heavy feeling weighing on him. "Por favor forgive me for finding an interest in your life." He, then, forced a laugh._

_"Oh-" Intoxicated like he was, he didn't notice how truly anxious João was. Antonio cackled his lungs out. "Gracias!"_

_The portuguese drank a little more of his beer as he thought up his next move._

_"The reason I'm here is because the princess escaped again! I had him back in Spain. I don't know why he was back there, but I got lucky I guess. I made sure to have contacts from all over Europe in case of something like this." He paused. "Remember I mentioned a Frenchie? His name is Francis Bonnefoy, if you wanted to know... Francis paid some dirty spanish guy to work with him in getting the british prince on board my ship. But that guy remembered what he looked like, so when he spotted him in Spain-" He shrugged._

_"He kidnapped him and took him to your ship?"_

_"Well, technically, Abel, my second in command, brought him to me. The little shit was smart though. He escaped with my horse in a nearby forest and I never saw him again. So, now I'm here looking for Francis, hoping he knows where the princess will go next." Referring Arthur as 'the princess' really irritated João. But he didn't let the other see it._

_"I see... That is indeed a long story." The older male sat back, relaxing his shoulders, trying his best to show no form of protest or threat._

_"What about you? You must've been through some mierda yourself... No?" The other brunette poured himself another cup of beer._

_"Bem, of course. Though, lately, I've been staying here, going around the Caribbean sea, relaxing... I haven't done real business in a long time. Mainly because I miss someone." If João left too soon, Antonio's suspicions would rise and it could get tricky. Therefore, he continued the 'friendly' talk._

_"Hah! Tell me about it... When me amor died, I was where you are right now, except... you know, much worse."_

_"Oh, he isn't dead. Well, I certainly hope not. We seperated when I went back to Portugal for a quick supply run. He went back home for all I know--"_

_"Wait, your 'love' is a man?? So you're some kind of... sodomist or something..?" With utter disgust, Antonio was about to slit João's throat._

_"I-- you do realize some sailors get married right? Like, two men. It's common." Lisboa was not afraid to defend himself as he had participated in two of his crewmates getting married in the past._

_"Yes, I know that, but you're not supposed to fuck." Antonio was an active catholic even with all the sins he committed in the past, he still prayed every day. Slaying people in the name of God, wearing his cross at all times and holding it when he was feeling bad in any sense of the word. It was his salvation. He noticed João wearing one too, but after he heard his unholy practices, he decided his friend wasn't catholic like him. His hand automatically grabbed at the cross for protection._

_"Look, capitão, I like women too. A lot. But I fell in love with a man. Why is that so wrong? Isn't love... just love?" The portuguese pirate spoke softly, teaching a different side to things. Maybe it would reach Antonio's ears and he would listen to reason. "Besides... What I do in bed with my partners is not really anyone's business. I mean, up until now you didn't know I did these things and you didn't have a problem with me. I'm still the same person, no?"_

_"..." Carriedo was about to attack João, but he was completely right. It didn't change who he was. It was weird only because Antonio himself made it weird. "...You're right." The Spaniard lowered his head in deep thought._

_"I'm afraid I'll have to go back to my crew... They must be worried about me." João took the opportunity to end their conversation since it was becoming fiddly._

_"Yeah, me too..." They both got up at the same time. Leaving their drinks behind and walking out through the crowd of pirates to properly say goodbye._

_"Well, it was certainly interesting to meet my twin." Lisboa chuckled one more time._

_"Si, thank you for accepting my offer." Carriedo extended a hand for a shake._

_"Couldn't say no to a free drink." He accepted the handshake with a bright smirk._

_"Let's hope we don't meet on the battlefield. Adios, amigo."_

_"Adeus." They both let go and parted each their own way. As soon as their backs were turned, both João and Antonio switched expressions. The aura the Spaniard was emitting made the portuguese so uneasy he hurried to the ship. And the younger captain couldn't shake off that feeling he had about him. He seemed off when he mentioned the prince. Something was up, he had to find Francis soon._

____________

_"Attend--! Anto--" The noble frog was not greeted by a friendly Spaniard. If he were being honest, Francis hated getting his hands dirty and his image was more important than his life. Therefore, when Antonio found him in Saint Domingue, he acted as if he didn't know him. He couldn't be affiliated with pirates--not to the public eye. Much to the Spaniard's disgust, he cornered him in an alleyway and shoved him against the brick wall behind the Frenchman. "Écoute, I know I did business with you before, but I have a policy where I don't work with the same person twice. Spécialement des pirates. (Especially pirates.)" Bonnefoy was in a panic, knowing that he couldn't refuse work from Antonio. He was the worst pirate he had ever worked with and hoped he wouldn't have to meet him again._

_"No, you listen, puta. You will work for me, and you walk away with all my fortunes, or I could kill you right here." Carriedo wasn't afraid to bluff. Francis was too much of a coward to refuse._

_"You wouldn't dare try--" His ocean blue eyes squinted with suspicion. Feeling a foot taller until the pirate pulled out his gun. He placed it against Francis' temple and pressed on the lever, cycling a bullet in the chamber. All he had to do is pull the trigger. "D'accord! (Okay/Alright!) I'll help you." He gulped a hard lump at the back of his throat. "But, I'll have to be paid first."_

_"You're only getting paid after the job is done." Antonio forced the weapon against the blond's head a little more. "Where is Arthur?"_

_"Quoi?! (What?!) I don't know?? How am I supposed to know?" Francis took up the pirate's attitude, getting annoyed as well. "You had him, you're supposed to know! And if you don't have him, then that means he went back to England. Do you know what that means to me?!"_

_"I don't give a shit what that means to you!" Carriedo's pistol finally left the Frenchman's face. He instead held on to the other's blue coat's collar._

_Some native stranger heard the commotion coming from where the two were fighting and decided to butt in. "What is going on here?" She asked calmly, though a little nervous. She couldn't have been older than 15 years old, but that didn't stop Antonio from shooting her through the heart. It was a clear shot and he didn't want to be disturbed. Of course, the loud noise attracted others to hurry to the scene, though the two were already gone._

_"You killed her?!" Francis panted._

_"Who cares? She's just a peasant slave." Antonio held the frog's arms behind his back as they ran away from the murder. "I didn't want to be disturbed, it's her fault for cutting in."_

_"You're sick." Bonnefoy had no reason to call him sick, though it's true the pirate was worse than most._

_"You're one to talk, puta." The spanish captain was able to sneak past any sort of authority to get to a boat where one of his sailors waited for him to escort them back to his vessel._

_Once on the pirate ship, Francis was immediately met with unfriendly faces. "Guess I have no choice now." He crossed his arms, giving the brunette an attitude he wasn't going to tolerate. "So, I bet you want to know where Arthur is more likely to go if he can't go home? That's what you meant, right?"_

_"Si. He wouldn't go back even if he could anyway." Antonio walked them into his office, waving everyone to go to work. Their next stop would be Spain._

_"What makes you so sure?" The nobleman asked as he followed him and closed the door behind him._

_"Trust me, he doesn't belong to his family and he knows. And... There's something else." Carriedo walked behind his desk and sat down on his chair. "I met someone who might've known him. I'm not sure, but I suspect him." He intertwined his fingers under his jaw and rested his elbows on top of the table._

_"What exactly do you mean?" Francis advanced to the work surface, placing his hands on top of it as well. He leaned his body, now more interested than ever, and crossed his right foot behind his leg._

_"He looks like me and he's a captain, but he's from Portugal... I met him randomly in the streets of Isla Juana and invited him for drinks. Anyway, I told him about a prince, but I noticed he seemed different when I mentioned he was from England."_

_"That actually might be useful..." Francis moved one of his hands to play in his freshly cut beard. He mused about what Antonio told him. "Alright, you have my undying fidelité." He shook hands with the pirate, making a deal with the devil yet again. "We'll have to work out a plan." Although he was unsure at first, he was definitely interested now._

_"What are you thinking, Bonnefoy?" The Spaniard pushed his back against the chair, casually dropping his filthy boots on his desk._

_"He's in Portugal, I'm sure of it. So, we'll have to make it there before the portugese you spoke to."_

_Antonio raised his hands, comfortably placing them behind his head. "It'll be easy to find him, but I'm pretty sure he'll get to Arthur before us."_

_"Alors,(So,) he must've left as soon as you two went back to your ships. Idiot." The Frenchman facepalmed, dragging his hand across his features._

_"Oi. Be careful what you say next. I can still kill you."_

_"Sounds to me like you need me." He teased the Spaniard._

_This wasn't well received. The frog was met with a dark glare._

_"I'm just joking. But if you went through all that trouble to get me knowing he would get his hands on your precious prince, then you won't kill me." Francis' ego hit a nerve. Antonio slammed his palms on the counter._

_"Don't test me, Francis!"_

_"Calme-toi... (Calm down) I was just pointing out the obvious." He snickered, glaring back at the captain._

_"You-"_

_"Captain." Abel opened the door and stopped them from killing or fucking each other._

_"¡¿Que?!" He exploded._

_"We have a situation." The Dutchman took the captain's hat and gave it to his as he stomped up to his second in command._

_Abel was able to save the nobleman's life, but he wouldn't do it again. It appeared as if a ship of angry slaves found out who killed the girl and wanted revenge on the Spaniard's crew. Antonio didn't want to waste his time on them, but if he didn't take care of it, they would follow him to Portugal and possibly make matters worse._

_"What the fuck did you do?"_

_"Nada! (Nothing!) I was having a conversation with Francis and this stupid slave girl disturbed us. Next thing I know, she's dead." The captain exclaimed with his arms high in the air, obviously annoyed._

_"You killed a civilian? And didn't think there would be consequences?" Abel raised an eyebrow, though his tone was calm._

_"I don't care. Take them out." He ordered, angrily walking up to the quarterdeck and navigating them to Europe as they prepared the canons. He wasn't going to start wasting his time on such nonsense._

_______________

_Flashback_

_Trigger warning!!_

_Sexual assault,_

_suicide and blood._

**_There was a time Antonio Fernandez Carriedo wasn't always like this. There was a time when he was more carefree, less strict. He was in love and cherished life. He was younger, naive and happy. He would spend his nights singing, dancing and meeting new people in his travels._ **

_**Siena. There's something so likable about this gentle name, perhaps because it conjures up images of the vibrant Tuscan town of the same name. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. She came from the same town as her name. Italian, shapes all at the right places, but a strong personality that led men to think she wasn't pure. But that wasn't didn't Antonio. Her dark, waved, velvety hair fell down to her shoulders. Her slightly darker skin tone and moles melted every man's heart she passed in the streets. No one could resist wooing her, but none prevailed. Italians were different from Spaniards and Antonio loved that. Her chestnut eyes seemed softer than her glares. Yet, she was rude and easily annoyed.** **All he wanted was her. She was the only thing that mattered to him.**_

**_When they met, he always believed it was fate. But she didn't. They had passionate nights together, unforgettable dinners and danced in sync better than anyone in the world. He never wanted to go back to Spain._ **

**_"You have to." She would say. "Isn't it your duty?" He was reminded of his lie every time he told her he wanted to stay in Italy._ **

**_Lies. Always lies. He wasn't just hiding his real identity, he was also inventing a life for himself._ **

**_"I don't want to go back." He would say._ **

**_But she never approved of him. Eventually, she tried to break things off with him. Though, he would follow her in her own town, stalking everything she did. When she would find out, she would yell for help and curse him out as she should. This never kept him away, until finally he paid someone to attack her._ **

**_The man he gave money to had to force himself on her once she was found alone in the streets. Others didn't pay attention to the attack. She begged for someone to come for her, calling for her brothers and sister. But none of the Vargas were there for her. Antonio was conveniently waiting for the right moment, but her screams and cries somehow aroused him. He felt his lower part throbbing, letting the situation go one for a little too long. The Spaniard rescued her not long after her clothes were ripped to shreds, spread all around the streets. People walked all over it, calling her a slut or saying she made advances on the man. Her people turned their back on her and all she had left was Antonio, her savior._ **

**_Without knowing about the plan, she thanked him and accepted to stay with him for a while. When it was time for her to go back home, he refused to let her go._ **

**_She never saw the faces of her sister and two brothers. Naturally they were devastated when they found out about her kidnapping._ **

**__________ **

_**"Siena...? Siena!" When the captain came down to see his one sided love covered in her own blood, he had lost his mind. His wide eyes rejected the image and all he could see were blurred shapes by tears. "No! Siena!" He opened her cage in a hurry but couldn't unlock the door fast enough. His shaking hands couldn't keep hold of the keys. "Por favor! Stay alive!" His screams were more painful than dropping to his knees on the cold slippery wood.** _

_**He lifted her body, arms wrapped around her like a gift. His sobbing was choked up by short breaths. By the look of things, she had been dead for hours. Her blood was cold and her eyes showed no hint of life. "Por favor! Por favor... Por favor." Antonio was stained by her red liquid. His face buried in her neck, warm tears falling on her cheeks as he leaned over her body. He kept a strong hold on her left arm and one in her soft hair. The brunette let go of a scream heavier than any anchor.** _

_**The crew hurried to see what had happened, though they weren't surprised she killed herself. They all watched him as he rocked back and forth with the dead girl in his arms, crying his heart out and calling for her to come back.** _

_**Abel had never seen Antonio so devastated, but he knew this would happen. He warned him. Though, Antonio didn't listen.** _

____________

_Carriedo felt a single tear forming on the side of his right eye, wiping it off before anyone saw. "Ahora no hay tiempo para pensarlo. (There's no time to think about that now.)" Antonio wasn't the only one thinking about that memory. Abel kept an eye on him from the lower deck. Now, with no one else in their way, they were proceeding to Europe at full speed._

____________

_João was hoping he'd gotten to Portugal faster, but the ocean was treacherous. Storms and scorching suns were forcing them to slow down the voyage. But João didn't give up. The close they got to their homeland, the closer he got to his lover. Even if Arthur didn't know it yet, the portuguese was his and that was enough to set a smile on his lips._

_Their journey was long, but they were finally there, in Porto, Portugal. João wasn't sure what to expect. Arthur wasn't going to be there as soon as he arrived— as if he knew somehow the other was back. Although, the prince really was in Porto. He was so afraid to go back home. He realized what he truly wanted. What he needed..._

_"Where is your mind at?" His teacher snapped her fingers at the blond. Arthur had a strange hunch that João was back. So maybe he did know..._

_"Sorry. I was--" The brit shook his head to clear it. He was cut off by an index finger._

_"Ah-a-ah! Em português!"_

_"Desculpa." He chuckled._

_"Ótimo. (Good/great)" She smirked. The teacher went through her notes and continued the lesson with her brit._

_The two were sitting outside at a cafe-like restaurant, simply enjoying the morning. After Kirkland was able to cross the borders, he decided to exchange work for portuguese lessons with a nice lady. She, as a widow, owned a flower shop and managed her finances herself. Though having someone to help around the shop for free, didn't seem to bother her. She still paid for his food and let him stay in her apartment above the shop. He was most grateful for her kindness._

_In the past few weeks, Arthur had claimed Portugal as his new land and made himself at home. More and more people knew him and became friendly._

_Meanwhile, João followed his heart, looking for Arthur everywhere. His crew begged for him to stay by the ship since they thought it was impossible for him to even find the brit. He could be anywhere or not even in Portugal, but Lisboa was stubborn. He left the crew to take care of the ship by themselves while he roamed the streets, entering a few shops hoping to see him inside._

_It was with deep disappointment that he couldn't even spot the blond hair in the crowd of people. He didn't give up. Even as the world was spinning around him, looking left and right, asking for his Inglaterra. Calling his name... Nothing came up._

_Until..._

_A quiet park caught his attention, close to the beach and looking a lot like that beach they kissed on once. Warm memories kept his heart excited and his mind alerted. Few, slow steps became swift, heavier… louder and then faster and faster… Was it him? Was it really…? It had to be._

_"Inglaterra!"_

_The blond turned his head in shock. No one but him called him as such. He abandoned everything he was doing--holding a casual conversation in portuguese with his florist friend, arm in arm, on the seaside--and swiveled around. He was met with a pair of dark green eyes and a familiar, wide grin. His teacher was visibly confused, though left the two reuniting, guessing it must have been important for them. The brunette ran into Arthur's arms, lifting him in the air and spinning him around. His emotions took control._

_They were finally together again and bolder than ever._

_Life is short, they both thought._

_I love you, they both wanted to say._

_—————————————_

_End Chapter_


	6. "Seis"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “..What he did to me… You don’t want to know. It’s poison. I’m poison.” His head collapsed on top of João’s, still grabbing onto him. His grip got stronger as Arthur squeezed. 
> 
> “Não, não. It’s impossible. He is, not you. Arthur, I don’t care that you’re a prince, I don’t care that you think you’re broken… because what I see in front of me is a beautiful, kind soul that’s been tampered with, for sure, but you survived. You are seriously the strongest person I’ve ever met--” Lisboa wasn’t going to stop complimenting him. He needed to show him just how sincere he was. Just how perfect he was to his eyes. Though, he was cut off by familiar lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, boys and girls and everything in between... The last chapter! This one's really big! And really dark, but a happy ending and a cliffhanger is waiting for you at the end of the 1st part. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING :  
> R*pe, nudity, abuse, substance abuse and eye gore are strongly mentioned in details. Please be aware of the triggers in this story. Some content might be offensive and for that, I am sorry.
> 
> A second warning is placed before the part starts.

* * *

**_Songs : Volatile times by IAMX_ **

_ **Amar pelos dois by Salvador Sobral**   
_

_ Dirty bed sheets moved around as Antonio sat up on the side of the bed. He let his head fall into his palms to rub the facial features awake. If his calculations were on point, they only had a few hours left until they arrived on the shores of Portugal. What he hadn’t calculated right was the addition of a person in his bed. Had he gone mad or was Francis Jean-Louis Bonnefoy in his bed next to him?  _

__

_ The blonde appeared like an angel. Such a peaceful expression. Such a shame to ruin the scenery.  _

__

_ “Why the fuck are you in my bed, Francis?” He surprised himself at how calm he was being. In any other case, he would have killed the man. He’s a catholic--he cannot be seen sleeping around with men… But after meeting João, the brunette seemed to be a little more open to the idea. Though his heart belonged to his dearly departed beloved, he could somehow see himself screw anyone without feeling remorse.  _

__

_ Moaning and groaning added to Antonio’s irritated nature. “...Je sais pas moi… je dors.. (I don’t know… I’m sleeping…)” The french never opened his eyes and barely moved from his position. His arm did, however, reach for a member of Carriedo’s. His hand ended up lower than anticipated, brushing over his loose pants, making the Spaniard jump up on his feet. “Ah- No fun…” He teased, turning his head away.  _

__

_ “What the hell, Francis!” Eyes menaced the other even if he couldn’t see him. “Did we--”  _

__

_ “Don’t be ridicule. You were too much of a prude.” Bonnefoy sounded like a child who had just been sent into the naughty corner for breaking a vase. Meanwhile, the captain was seething.  _

__

_ “Being with a man is absolutely--” He held his cross, ready to repent his sins. Although, none would forgive him.  _

__

_ “Natural.” The blonde decided to get up as well, opening his eyes and rubbing them in the process. “Anto, you need to relax. Nothing happened and I wouldn’t have let you anyway.” He never looked at the man in front of him. His usual arrogant grin was replaced by a more modest frown, whereas his blue orbs seemed regretful.  _

__

_ Catching feelings mayhaps? The Frenchman knew he’d end up falling for the Spaniard if something would’ve happened.  _

__

_ “So why are we in bed, eh?” His doubts were making the other flinch in protest.  _

__

_ “Well, at least I know what your kisses are like.” He decided to play with the captain a little, but that only earned him a punch.  _

__

_ “You filthy sodomist.” The cruel tone was more hurtful than the action. Antonio believed only in a corrupted God, unable to save people like João and Francis.  _

__

_ Ironic. He was lying to himself, suppressing only the darkest truths from coming out or resurfacing. He never forgot about those times with Arthur… Though, those times didn’t count, right? No, they don’t count because he prayed for God to look the other way. He told himself, until he believed it was, that it was only a way to punish the prince. He deserved it. He asked for it. And for Antonio? Antonio Fernandez Carriedo? It was pleasing. Fulfilling. Somehow, those old memories of countless crimes with the british prince arose in his length. A new form of excitement brought joy to a lower part of himself, screaming for him to do it again. It became a need. Just like when he was still with Sienna.  _

__

_ Corazòn… He thought.  _

__

_ The Spaniard had been glaring at Francis for far too long, trying to find the right thing to say, but found that his insult was enough. He left angrily with hardly anything on.  _

__

_ The Frenchman stared at the floor with teary eyes, long locks blocking the pathetic view. He wasn’t sure if he was emotional over himself or over the fact that Antonio was not going to let him live after they found the brit.  _

__

_ “Idiot.” He mumbled in french, choking back sobs, therefore no one outside would hear him.  _

__

_ _________________ _

**_Flashback_ **

**_Huge disclaimer ; Trigger warning_ **

**_R*pe, Abuse_ **

**_Arthur’s POV:_ **

__

**_After I was taken into Antonio’s room, so he would keep a closer eye on me, I tried to plan an escape. Though, the more I planned, the more suspicious I became to the eyes of the spanish captain. He ended up beating me until I passed out whenever I refused to answer his questions or starved me when I pushed him away. Eventually, I had to eat so I would let him touch me in anyway he wanted, reluctantly of course. I never agreed to his forceful advances. At some point, he stopped asking me about the amulet, instead playing house with a prisoner. That’s when I realized he was insane. His velvety voice honeyed over vicious words. Any spanish sayings disturbed my entire mind, my soul--if I still had one left--and my body._ **

__

**_I didn’t care about the way he spoke, it was what he told me that destroyed my last bit of hope I held on to. “You’ll never escape, conejito.” I didn’t want to know what ‘conejito’ meant, but I found out pretty bloody fast it meant ‘little bunny’. Those words never left my thoughts, keeping me up at night as he slept next to me._ **

__

**_Every night was a struggle. When he was done with his navigation, or even when he stayed in his office to plan the next heading--the same office I was held hostage in--, I had to submissively give in to the chains he would so gracefully tie around my ankles. Just to make sure I wouldn’t try anything. Not to mention the guards outside his door, wishing I would come out. I didn’t make this task too easy for him. Every night, when this time came, until I escaped, I gave him hell. That was probably why he called me as such. A barbaric man with savage intentions could never tame the likes of me. I was a prince and I held that dear to my heart. Not only was I originally the next in line to become king of England, but I had been crowned king of wales at the age of nine. I was going to bloody die like a king : with honour and dignity._ **

__

**_But he was always patient. He calculated every move I made, every kick I threw his way and stopped every push. He covered my mouth as I tried to deafen him. He never flinched when I bit his fingers nor did he yell back at me. Because to him, to a rapist, it was all worth the while after. He got to have his reward._ **

__

**_What about me? When do I get my satisfaction? I asked constantly. I prayed. God never answered. I gave up on escaping, gave up on hope… and then on God. He turned his back on me when Antonio inserted himself between my lips and shoved deep down my throat. I turned my back on God when I recognized the contentment of climaxing from my sound of awful gagging. I turned my back on heaven and eternal bliss when he used me as his toy. I was his made up wife, calling me a name I had never heard of before. The worst times were when he was drunk. This man was terrifying, but indescribable once intoxicated. I never thought he could enrich his intimidating nature, but he proved me wrong._ **

__

**_Forget fighting him or screaming, this man enjoys the helpless victim with a burning passion._ **

__

**_He once came in the room with a bottle in one hand and his dick in the other and sincerely asked for me to scream for help. To act like a ‘conejito’ for him. His bargain? ‘I won’t come on you nor touch you if you do.’ What a gentleman. I stayed quiet, trembling like a lamb. It was pathetic. He stood by, back against the door with such an evil smile even the devil himself would fear. His steady hand holding the bottle slowly made way to his mouth to take the last sip and trashed it across the room, glass shattering all over the place. This was the opportunity I was waiting for and simultaneously felt the adrenaline control me. There was no time to think, I got off the bed and ran for a piece of glass to slit his throat. I was so desperate that I hadn’t noticed I wasn’t wearing my boots and stepped on the broken bottle. I had badly injured myself, making it easier for him to aggressively drag me towards him. His hands were always so cold, why were they always so bloody cold..._ **

__

**_I was panting, weak and starving. There was no way for me to fight him or kill him even if he’d let me. It was physically impossible. And I was injured._ **

__

**_Needless to say he got what he wanted. He slapped me with a grin as dark as the room and undid my slacks quickly. He took me on the freezing, hard wood, still bleeding from my foot. I knew this was a repetitive dance I simply couldn’t stop. I just… let it happen. If that was what God wanted, then Antonio could have it. He killed me. I was motionless under him as he roughly thrusted in me with barely any spit to lubricate. It hurt. My watery lifeless eyes fogged at the thought of having a sticky substance to clean by myself again. My gasps came from restricted breaths as he grew louder and faster. ‘Sienna’_ **

__

**_“Sienna!” Everytime he came, he cried in vain._ **

__

**_I remember that night… It was different from other nights. I hate to say it, but seeing as I was never going to leave his side--I believed at the time--, it was hard not to see a broken man inside such a monster. There was a reason for his abuse. Not because I didn’t know where the stupid fucking amulet was, but because he was heartbroken. I never pitied him, that’s not what I mean to say. I never felt anything for the man but hate, in the matter. Though, a part of me could understand. I couldn’t believe myself, but the small hint of kindness he unveiled after his actions came from a man who once had passion in his black heart. Love and compassion. This is what happens when a man makes mistakes._ **

__

**_He pulled out, regretting the mess he made of me. I could see he was torturing himself for everything he’d done to me. I felt like my soul had left me in the middle of all that chaos, perhaps long before he even laid a hand on me. I didn’t concern myself with that anymore, all I wanted was a way to be treated in any shape of form better than this. I lifted a frail hand to his warm, sweaty left cheek, palming it with genuine gentleness. I’m not sure why I would ever do this, but I was empty. Everything from my stomach to my head had been drained, emptied into the void. He was a black hole and had consumed my will with every last piece of my being. I was nothing._ **

__

**_“Mi corazón, disculparse. (_ ** _ My heart/love, I offer my apologies/deeply apologize _ **_)” Breathless, dripping in sweat and inching closer to my lips, he murmured words I had never heard before. His tone was not in the least frightening for once. His eyes were low, exhausted, though still drunk. Then I saw it. I recognized this kind of whimper. It was a cry. He was crying softly so I wouldn’t be afraid of him. I wanted to leave so bloody bad, but a part of me--I couldn’t tell what--wanted to help him. I wanted him to let me go with his own free will. If I was nice to him, maybe he would give me a chance._ **

__

**_I was naive._ **

__

**_He grabbed my waist in such a way, I thought I was being picked up by an angel. The change in atmosphere, in his actions and even in his voice, had caught me by the throat. I couldn’t tell who was the drunk one anymore. Placing me on top of the bed with such delicacy cushioned my arse._ **

__

**_“Who is Sienna?” I had to say something. Even if it was a question I risked getting stabbed for asking. Even if the answer was obvious. I just wanted to get close to him._ **

__

**_He took his time before replying. He dressed me, covered me with his coat--which he hadn’t been wearing often-- and wiped my forehead from sweat. He took a long, hard look into my emerald green orbs to finally look down and start nursing my foot. “I met her in Italy. I fell in love, but she didn’t love me back. I grew mad from it and took her with me.” He seemed so confident while telling me about this. As if it wasn’t a huge deal to kidnap someone because of love. But he wasn’t done. “I saved her life before that. I was keeping an eye on her one cloudy afternoon--”_ **

__

**_“You mean, stalking her.” Neutral, though harsh, I corrected him._ **

__

**_His bright green eyes glared tiredly at me, but went back to my foot. Now wrapping it up in bandages. “Yes, I stalked her. Love makes you do crazy things, Arthur.” He bit his bottom lip and stopped what he was doing before sitting back in front of me. “A man was taking advantage of her… Which makes me no better than him.” What I didn’t know, later finding out the truth, was that he paid the man to make it happen. “She wanted--no, needed someone to be there for her. No one came for her help except me. Sienna was grateful so she stayed with me. It felt like we were back together.” His lips creeped upwards, though it was the first time I’d seen an honest to God good smile. “She was slowly getting used to me. And I was falling in love all over again. I knew I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life. But…”_ **

__

**_“She didn’t.”_ **

__

**_“I never asked for this to happen. I just thought that if I was there for her, then she’d see I’m the right man for her.”_ **

__

**_“You can’t force people to love you, Antonio.”_ **

__

**_I grew weary of the sudden silence. His eyes caught mine in an attempt to earn a reaction. Although, I stayed strong._ **

__

**_“I love it when you say my name like that.” I don’t know why I was expecting any different. The room changed into what it once was, making me fall back into the covers and pillows. “If I can’t have the amulet… I guess you’ll be my new replacement. My Sienna.”_ **

__

_ ___________________ _

__

_ The brit hadn’t noticed just how much taller he was compared to the man he felt so strongly about. It was probably because of the heels the captain wore, or maybe it was simply not something he realized before. He didn’t care until now and caught himself thinking that it was strange. How didn’t he see it before? Had João always been aware of it? No matter. In the end, he was in the air, held by his older captain and never wanted to leave his side again.  _

__

_ “I’m sorry about this-” João let down the brit, remarking how abnormal it looked to passing marchants and pedestrians. “I just… I missed you so much.” He stumbled into his words, taking a step back from Arthur. He was afraid of pushing his luck with him. The portuguese could lose him again if he wasn’t careful.  _

__

_ “Nonsense!” The prince exclaimed and took one of the other’s hands into his own while taking a step towards him—never been this close to each other in the past. “I too missed you, Portugal.” The formality was his way of showing just how much respect he held for him. His lustrous tone mixed with a joyful--or perhaps loving--smile caught the smaller off guard.  _

__

_ “I’m glad to hear, then.” Lisboa returned the grin with smooth eyes.  _

__

_ They both carefully analyzed each and every single feature, closing in on lips, hands slowly moving towards someone’s back and another’s chest and eyelids falling heavy with every second. Unfortunately, they were cut off by the clear of a throat coming from behind the blonde. With the realization that they were in a public place, the brit let go of everything and felt his face heat up in shame. João coughed his own embarrassment away, averting everyone’s gaze. Even though no one but Arthur’s teacher had been looking at them.  _

__

_ She wore a beautiful white robe with a red sleeveless vest falling low in her back. Her shoes were a simple navy blue, complimenting her dark hair--braided back into a high bun. She had a bright personality and a strong body.  _

__

_ “So you two…” She started, with a finger waving in the air in their direction. An eyebrow raised to the sky and a side smirk translated to a mischievous nature. “...Oh, that’s why you never tried to have sex with me!” All of a sudden she found herself too bold for the evening. Her hysterical laugh attracted the attention of other strangers.  _

__

_ The brit began to panic, trying his best to shut her up without insulting her despite getting mad. João, on the other hand, was trying his hardest not to burst out in laughter himself. He was honoured, though. Arthur William Kirkland was saving himself for the right one. The one being him ; João Herique Lisboa.  _

__

_ Or so he thought. _

__

_ ______________ _

__

_ The three caught up, talking about everything that had happened up until Arthur met Maria. João was happy that his once reserved and anti-social brit spoke so nonchalantly and openly about his travels. Even about the second kidnapping.  _

__

_ “I didn’t know all of this happened, Arthur…” The teacher had been listening carefully with elbows far from herself, at the edge of her seat. “I understand why you wouldn’t tell me about being kidnapped, but you could have told me you met an Elf!”  _

__

_ “Oh hush! I don’t want the entire bloody country to hear us. Besides, no one will believe me.” Kirkland seemed pretty certain of himself. He let himself fall back into his chair as he half chuckled into his beer.  _

__

_ “Pssshhh… We’re in my shop. No one’s here.”  _

__

_ “The walls are thin!” He huffed, eyeing the other portuguese. “You alright, João?”  _

__

_ He appeared to be blocked on a different part of the story. His eyes were screaming ‘shock’, though his frown hinted distress. It seems like he was expecting it, but at the same time, not.  _

__

_ “João.” Arthur placed a hand over his wrist to gain his attention.  _

__

_ “Que-- Oh, I’m okay. I need to tell you something… I think we better leave soon as well.”  _

__

_ “Already? And with my apprentice?” Maria’s tone was not its usual cheerful or sassy self. A new sound the brit wasn’t exactly used to.  _

__

_ “I told you I wasn’t staying for long.” The prince himself didn’t appear to like the news. The air started to fall heavy on each shoulder. “I, myself, have something to get off my chest. Actually, I should have told you a long time ago, but I was afraid that if you found out that I was…” His eyes shamefully scurried away as he was about to mention his true title.  _

__

_ “A prince? I know.”  _

__

_ Disturbance shot Maria’s back and she straightened her posture, uncertain who to look at. The aforementioned prince’s green obs had grown two sizes bigger, meanwhile the captain simply glared darkly at him. The only female then bursted out in laughter. “Ahhh, you two are funny!” Although, noticing she was the only one laughing, she wrinkled her forehead. “I-it is a joke, right?”  _

__

_ “I’m afraid not.” Arthur finished his drink as he came to. “How did you find out?”  _

__

_ “Antonio told me.”  _

__

_ “What!?” Both the apprentice and the mentor snapped at the pirate.  _

__

_ “I met him back in Isla Juana.” The brunette started, explaining everything that had happened. It was only a conversation between Arthur’s abuser and his lover, though he felt terrible for not taking the chance to shoot or stab him. Especially when emeralds looked so glassy. So broken. “I’m so sorry, Inglaterra.” João finished. _

__

_ “It’s not your fault, João. I’ll never blame you for… well honestly, I have no idea why you’re apologizing. I thank you for telling me.” The tone Arthur had around him kept Maria on her toes. She knew.  _

__

_ “You know… If you two want to be left alone to talk about this, I can leave you be. Just ask.” She didn’t even wait for a response. She stood up with the empty cups and saluted them a goodnight.  _

__

_ Neither of them said anything, even as she was gone. João decided to break the silence, holding the prince’s hands.  _

__

_ “They’re cold as ice--” _

__

_ “João, I’m a broken man. I can’t do this anymore.” The blonde locks hid those gorgeous, mystical eyes of his which the pirate finally took notice of. His hair had grown longer. A single tear fell as his shoulder bounced with the quiver of his lip. “..What he did to me… You don’t want to know. It’s poison. I’m poison.” His head collapsed on top of João’s, still grabbing onto him. His grip got stronger as Arthur squeezed.  _

__

_ “Não, não. It’s impossible. He is, not you. Arthur, I don’t care that you’re a prince, I don’t care that you think you’re broken… because what I see in front of me is a beautiful, kind soul that’s been tampered with, for sure, but you survived. You are seriously the strongest person I’ve ever met--” Lisboa wasn’t going to stop complimenting him. He needed to show him just how sincere he was. Just how perfect he was to his eyes. Though, he was cut off by familiar lips. _

__

_ Kirkland was tired of being stopped by the world from kissing the man he loved. For crying out loud, he traveled miles and miles just to see him again. João was deeply in love with Arthur and it showed. The intertwined hands freed each other of all tension unconsciously. One of those strong fingers gingerly caressed the porcelain skin of the other’s jaw, making their way up behind his ear. He ignored the wet cheek as much as he could until another tear dropped. The same fingers came back to catch it as he deepened the kiss across the table. They never once opened their eyes, finding each other entangled in ways they dreamt about. Such softness, yet rough passion made the brit lose himself in forgotten memories. Memories he thought weren’t real. Drunk nights, confessions… They weren’t dreams. They happened.  _

__

_ João was smiling through the embrace and so was Arthur. Both of them nearly laying on the table while hands reached for hair--blonde or brown, it was the least of their concern. All they wanted was the other. No need for anymore confessions. Everything was said in that silent, painful but loving, kiss. Arthur had gone through almost everything, hell and back. Kidnapping over kidnapping. Betrayals… He was done. He was tired of waiting for hints or signs of love. It was there all along and he knew it. He just never admitted it to himself.  _

__

_ As for the other… João knew that if he wasn’t respectful to his brit he risked never seeing him again. There was always something about Arthur he felt was more elegant than any person he’d ever met. That’s why it was so easy to further believe he was a prince. He didn’t exactly trust him at first either, but losing him was more pain than a scar could hold. João was a patient man, principally for his lover.  _

__

_ “...I’ve always loved you, Inglaterra.”  _

__

_ “I think--” Arthur choked up in his words. “... I think I knew deep down, but I didn’t want to believe it.”  _

__

_ They kept lustful greens on each other, observing each feature as if they owned one another ; Kirkland’s rosy cheeks and nose, his thin light red lips, his round but sharp jawline... Lisboa’s rougher contours, his darker skin tone, wide shoulders and the beauty mark under his right eye. All such perfect men. Equally as pretty. Though, equally as handsome.  _

__

_ “It’s okay. I knew you’d come around.” His smile widened at the sound of his own words. He let go of the prince, walking to him from the other side, only to slip an arm around his back and pull him closer to his body. “Eu te amo. (I love you)” He whispered, hardly a centimeter apart. His free hand played in Arthur’s blonde hair.  _

__

_ “Eu também te amo, minha querida.” Arthur didn’t let his love be impressed for too long and attacked his luscious mouth for a second round. He felt himself elevate and his legs gently guided around João’s waist. The latter moved towards the couch stationed behind them and positioned Arthur down under him.  _

__

_ “Mh-- Wait.” As the pirate was landing a knee next to the brit’s outer leg, the blonde pushed him back a little. He gasped, showing concern about himself.  _

__

_ “Would you like to be on top?” The portuguese offered calmly with a breathy tone. “I don’t mind letting you… do me. Or maybe you’d rather just kiss?” Arthur was fascinated by his understanding nature. Such a patient, loving man. There had to be some kind of catch… No, there weren’t any and he was just being paranoid.  _

__

_ “That first offer sounded good.” The prince had gained a new sense of confidence, feeling like he could dominate the world. “But maybe not here. I don’t think it’d be very respectful of us to fuck on Maria’s couch, not to mention I don’t think I’m completely comfortable yet.” He didn’t want to admit it, but homosexuality was also an issue he was a shame to think he was afraid of.  _

__

_ “Y-yeah. Good point.” The captain chuckled, embarrassed to believe he was about to do something so straightforward. “Desculpa.” He sat back. “We really should go though… Antonio is probably on his way here, if not, he already arrived.” He hated to break the beautiful moment they shared together, but it had to be said. Arthur wasn’t safe until the Spaniard was dead.  _

__

_ “That’s another reason why I think we should go back to your ship.” The brit had been melting in the other’s hold for so long that he didn’t register the pain of soaring muscles in his back and neck. He had not relaxed like this since he was a child. “I don’t want Maria to be part of this nonsense.” _

__

_ “Then we will leave--” _

__

_ “Not before I said goodbye.” Arthur stood up, shooting a smirk at the man and making his way to a piece of paper and ink. He wrote his mentor a letter, signed it and left with João. The letter was sealed properly and with care.  _

__

**_In portuguese :_ **

**_{To a wonderful woman I once called my teacher,_ **

__

**_I thank you deeply for the kindness you showed me in times of crisis. I thank you for the lessons you gave me and hope to honour them in the future._ **

**_I write to you to say goodbye. I’m sorry for not telling you in person, but I didn’t want to make this too dramatic…_ **

__

**_I will miss you dearly, Maria. You are a good person as well as a strong woman. I wish you success in your business and keep your chin as high as the sky. Your memories will be with my heart and mind always._ **

__

**_I bid you farewell, darling. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me._ **

__

**_With love,_ **

**_Arthur William Kirkland_ **

**_King of wales and first prince of England_ **

**_Now a pirate and forever remembered as a ghost.}_ **

__

_ __________________ _

__

_ As smooth as the still wind, a ship advanced to the shores of the Iberian country. Unfamiliar with the waters, Antonio was cautious not to raise any suspicions. Though, something caught the corner of his eyes.  _

__

_ “A pirate ship.” There weren’t a lot of pirates on the ocean, specifically close to the European continent. It was easy to spot the difference between a navy and a pirate ship. The captain wasn’t just certain that it was the ship of the person he was looking for, but he would bet his life on it. “‘Gaivota Voadora’. A pirate ship that also turns out to be portuguese? There is no doubt in my mind, Francis! You brought us to him!” He raised his voice as he congratulated the Frenchman with his hat. The other man had been standing near him with the monocular, eyeing the ship and moving it a few degrees north-west where sailors were waiting for their captain on the docks. They appeared to be a small group, smoking and drinking. The rest would surely be on the decks of their vessel maybe a kilometer away from the shore. Pirates were made weary of staying too close to the ground from the royal navy. And so they parked further from the docks.  _

__

_ “Oui, oui. We need to stay focused. Some of them are on decks and the rest are near a boat on the docks. Let’s stay quiet and sneaky about this, Anto.”  _

__

_ Before anyone could see them, Carriedo turned the ship around to hide behind a cliff. They let down the anchor and raised the sails before preparing two smaller boats to ambush the Portuguese.  _

__

_ “Do you have a plan?” The noble asked while he descended on the boat where Abel was waiting for him.  _

__

_ “I’ve had a plan since he first escaped from me.” Antonio’s deadly scowl wasn’t meant for Francis. The hours he’d spent planning and raging over his slip up, had sent his person straight to purgatory. His mind was corrupted and filled with ideas worse than any man had ever come up with.  _

__

_ “D’accord…” The blonde swallowed as he landed inside the wooden vessel. “Let’s just not fuck it up, shall we..?” He mumbled, sitting back as Antonio was next. If the Spaniard messed up, it could be deadly for all of them.  _

__

_ Francis was lucky neither the captain nor Abel heard him. Or else, he would have been thrown overboard. It didn’t take very long for Carriedo and his crew to reach the enemy ship. So far they hadn’t been spotted, continuing until they were close enough to climb up on the decks. Undetected and as quiet as space, the men approached every portuguese sailor successfully. They murdered all of them without any casualty on their own side, peaceful men dropping like flies as their life flashed before their eyes. Every slit done perfectly over the jugular.  _

__

_ “Now it’s ours.” The captain breathed with a smile. He was getting ahead of himself, almost tasting his victory.  _

__

_ “We wait for Arthur to come…” Abel stepped closer to the back of the ship, accompanying his friend to observe the sailors across the water.  _

__

_ Both of them could see movement, but they couldn’t visualize clearly enough what was happening.  _

__

_ “Francis. The monocular.” Without a moment of hesitation, Bonnefoy arrived next to Antonio with the device, placing it in his hand. The Spaniard adjusted it to his eye, closing the other, and expanding it to reveal the truth far from them.  _

__

_ _______________ _

__

_ “Ahh! Capitão! Arthur! Sentimos sua falta! Especialmente você. (We missed you guys! Especially you.)” One of the sailors pointed to the brit. “Estamos prontos, senhor? (Are we ready, sir?)”  _

__

_ “Sim!” The brunette looked over his shoulder where his love was standing taller and smiled back at his crewmate to agree. With a gentle hand, he cleared the way for him, leading them to the boat happily.  _

__

_ “Obrigado, meu querido.” Arthur voiced out, much to everyone else’s surprise. Last time they heard him speak their language, his british accent took the top.  _

__

_ Before he could comfortably sit down, Arthur felt a cold in his spine. A terrible feeling made him shiver and he couldn’t help but turn his head in the direction of the ship. His orbs caught a figure in the dark, but couldn’t make up any features familiar to him.  _

__

_ ___________ _

__

_ Steadily, the Spaniard lowered the monocular, still glaring in Arthur’s direction. “It’s him. I knew that portuguese puta had my prince.” Antonio spat his words as a scowl strengthened. He was fuming with anger, ready for his fight. “They should be here soon. Let’s take cover.” While the captain, the nobleman and the henchman stared off in the distance, the crew threw the dead under the decks. Done with their chores and now hiding from sight, they impatiently waited for the enemy to get on the ship.  _

__

_ They couldn’t have waited longer than half an hour when they heard voices accompanied by a familiar british accent getting louder with every stroke of the paddle. They couldn’t exactly make out what they were talking about since it was mixed with some form of portuguese. It had been weeks since the incident in Spain, but Antonio felt like he hadn’t seen him in months. He was growing aroused by the thought of squeezing his body in his own hands while it was the last thing João saw before getting thrown to the gallows.  _

__

_ “...Something’s wrong… Something doesn’t feel right…” A deep voice cued Abel to attack immediately, shooting on the random sailors and jumping on João. He kept his knife between his dirty teeth as he swung his fists at the captain.  _

__

_ Arthur, as shocked as everyone else, yelled a ‘No!’ before stealing the dead crewmate’s sword, to avenge his soul. His weapon met with a certain Spaniard. “I’ll kill you!” He added, rage filling the white of his eyes.  _

__

_ “I’d love to see you try, cabròn.” He howled maniacally. He clashed the blade a few times against the blonde’s. His peepers caught the Ibarian kicking his henchman off of his abdomen. He got up to help Arthur, though was quickly cut off by a bullet fired by the frog.  _

__

_ “I don’t think so, mon ami!” He himself was enjoying the view. The battlefield wasn’t so impressive considering they outnumbered the portuguese. In the end, only two of them were still standing and fighting for their lives.  _

__

_ “Ah, I knew it! You two are soul-bound. You’re lovers!” The Spaniard mocked the two survivors as his crew watched their fight.  _

__

_ The Englishman squinted at his opponent, using João’s tricks against him and winning the round, injuring his hand in the process. Unarmed and retreating, Antonio had given Arthur an advantage at killing his men. One by one, three of them we defeated in a single swing of the sword. He rapidly looted one of them to use a pistol on a fourth enemy. João was proud of his fast learner. He was always inspired by the way he fought ; like a king. He fought, not only to win, but to conquer. Arthur wasn’t afraid of death and he had proven that to Antonio and many other Spaniards before.  _

__

_ The aforementioned enemy had gotten another sword from a slain sailor--he couldn’t tell if he was his man or João’s--and proceeded back to Arthur. He pushed anyone in his way, not caring whatsoever if they were his crew or not. He wanted Kirkland for himself.  _

__

_ The last standing portuguese pulled out his gun, firing at  _ _ Abel--missing, instead hitting another enemy. The Dutchman was offended and pulled a sword to duel the captain. His steps were all small, each more discreet than the other, trying his hardest to concentrate on the opponent he was facing. He trusted his friend would come on top as the vanquisher, so he never looked back.  _

_ While all of them fought for dominance, Francis turned his stare to the shore where movements were visible. The royal navy heard the turbulent noises they were creating and decided to investigate it. Bonnefoy made way to the shrouds only to realize that he could use this. He calculated his next move carefully, eyes back and forth on the duels and then back at the royal navy. They appeared to be British. How strange considering the British stopped looking for their dead prince a long time ago-- _

_ “Ce putain d’Espagnol! (That fucking Spaniard!)” The man he paid to help him sell Arthur to Antonio and to keep quiet, had told someone about the truth.  _

_ During Francis’ war inside his mind, the four men kept at each other’s throat, on the verge of losing or winning at every second. Kirkland was not afraid to say what he really thought about his rapist as João listened, becoming more and more enraged. His focus betrayed him and he was met with the end of the dutch’s sword. Though, Lisboa was clever. He used his left arm to redirect the blade as he took a dance step to the opposite direction. He hummed a tune, much to Abel’s confusion, following the flow of said song and slashing through his enemy’s poet shirt. He wasn’t successful in hurting him, but it distracted the man enough to gain them distance as he took his piece of clothing off. João quickly ran to Arthur to have a little round with the monster himself, side by side.  _

_ “Don’t worry, brother, I don’t plan on killing him.” Antonio snickered. The Dutchman hurried to join their three-men-fight. “You on the other hand...” He spun behind Abel to fight João who had been attacking from Arthur’s left. Now face to face with a new foe, Antonio showed what he was truly capable of, still in pain from the brit’s last attempt to cut his right arm off. “¡Espero que mueras con lentitud! (I hope you die a slow death!)”  _

_ João didn’t respond, making sure he had both eyes on the unstable man. How dare he call me brother, he declared. How dare he speak to me in spanish. Every ‘dare’ spoken in his mind was a clash of the sword with immense strength, not realizing just how much farther he was getting from his lover. He could almost see just how far gone the maniac was. His sanity had left his consciousness long ago. All the better reason to put this man out of his misery.  _

_ Meanwhile, the nobleman dove into the ocean to meet with the British, acting like a hostage. He warned them about pirates and told them Arthur, king of wales and first prince of England, was also taken by the pirates. He was well aware that the men would murder all but Arthur. He didn’t care about Antonio nor did he feel anything for João. He needed to get out of this troublesome situation.  _

_ “Are you sure? Didn’t you, yourself, say that he was dead?” The leader, Admiral Alistair of Scotland, furrowed his features as his chin stayed higher than the drenched Frenchman.  _

_ “Ah- oui, mais I wasn’t certain. The king just took my word for it and dismissed me when I brought the news…” Francis saved his own ass with yet another lie. Admiral Alistair simply assumed he was in shock, knowing his title as nobleman.  _

_ “Very well.” His gravelly voice complimented his silky smooth tone as the deep scottish accent added flavour to it all. “Let’s do our job as the kingsmen.”  _

_ The angel from France found himself in the hands of a redhead he would later find out was the Red Devil of the Northern seas. He wasn’t admiral for nothing.  _

_ Back on the ship, João found himself cornered. Abel was not a match to Arthur and Antonio grew weak for his comrade. The split-second the Spaniard wasted on looking next to him cost him to lose balance. Although he was thrown backwards, nearly falling off the vessel, he didn’t let João get away with it so easily. One step too close and his right eye was badly wounded. Lisboa also fell back, screaming as he covered his eye with one hand. The Dutchman wasn’t supposed to hurt the brit so when Arthur abandoned him to protect his captain, the taller simply stood by.  _

_ The Englishman glared deep into Antonio’s soul, warning him to stay away. “Don’t even  _ _ think _ _ about it!”  _

_ Though, this only made the Spaniard laugh even more. “Can’t you see? You two are keeping each other from fighting in full strength! Arthur, couldn’t you have chosen someone stronger at least?”  _

_ “I once saw a man in you, Antonio. A man with compassion and kindness. Why are you doing this?” Arthur’s position shocked the portuguese’s heart. Falling more and more for him even as they were nearing death.  _

_ “Are you seriously asking this?” The monster couldn’t believe just how incredibly stupid his question sounded to him. “Because you have the amulet! You know where it is!”  _

_ “No! I  _ _ am _ _ the amulet, dipshit!” Everyone took a turn to react as he kept on. “And I certainly can’t bring back you’re bloody victims from your own damnation.” He could see Antonio was not in least trusting his words. But perhaps he was shaken by his tone enough to regain their breaths. “Sienna died because you killed her! You can’t force people to love you.” The prince was strong like a bull and, being the Spaniard that he was, the captain knew not to offend his opponent. Carriedo understood his research for magic had come to an end. He didn’t have a reason to fight anymore. His breaths became heavier the more he thought about it. His heart pounded with immense loathing. His eyes closed for a moment, inhaling a great deal of oxygen prior to charge towards the blonde.  _

_ What the pirate didn’t know was that a damaged João prepared a shot with his portuguese pistol. Barely a step closer to the couple, the bullet had entered his lungs, puncturing them. The blood in his body filled his respiratory system in seconds, forcing him to vomit the thick liquid as his henchman loudly discarded his defeat. Arthur couldn’t wait to impale his abuser through the heart as the sound of coughing filled the air.  _

_ He twisted the blade fifty degrees east as he stepped closer to his ear in an attempt to murmur a few words before he passed to the underworld.  _

_ “I wanted to love you, Toni. I wanted to help you. I wanted to give you a chance. You just…”  _

_ ‘Couldn’t let the amulet purify you like you wanted.’ _

_ Though, Antonio was gone only after the first five words. Even so, the captain was not able to hear the words. His suffocating gurgle sounds from the depths of his throat and the agonizing pain coming straight from where the bullet pierced through were too distracting to understand his sentences. Even with all the achs, he was too numb to protest. The natural endorphins were too late to catch onto the pain and he departed with eyes open. In agonizing suffering. _

_ Arthur retracted his sword from inside the deadman and let him fall on his knees, then chest first on the solid ground. His mouth opened, letting the blood poor as he continued to lifelessly gaze into the distance. He looked almost peaceful. Abel dropped next to his childhood friend with wide eyes, leaving his weapons behind.  _

_ “No! Not again--” The flash of memories brought a harsh headache as he mourned his captain’s death.  _

_ As the lovers helped each other to finish off the fight, Alistair ordered them to halt while Francis emerged from the boat where they came from. The Admiral had heard everything from the moment the prince admitted to being the Amulet.  _

_ “Arthur William Kirkland! You are to return with I and the royal fleet to safely go back home to your family.”  _

_ “What… Alistair-- Wait, no!” Reluctant to answer and probably too worn out to comprehend the situation, the blonde backed away from the royal guards. One arm clinging to João and the other settled on his weapon, raised to threaten his own men.  _

_ “Are you choosing to be with a criminal? Turning your back on your own people? Sire, please, come to your senses. Surely they’ve manipulated you.” The scottish ignored the Dutchman, though he would kill him later. That is, if he was still there later.  _

_ “You don’t understand what I’ve been through, Al. It’s more complicated than that--” Kirkland and his captain took each careful step to their boat, hoping the brits hadn’t surrounded them.  _

_ “Seize them! They’re trying to escape!” The Frenchman had caught on to the couple’s plan and alarmed the guards to start acting with force.  _

_ “Oh fack this.” The blonde ran to Alistair, stealing his small firearm and shooting the nobleman to get back at him for selling him to Antonio. “Run, João! They’ll kill you!” The king’s guards took hold of Arthur as João reluctantly jumped into the boat. He ripped a piece of his white blouse to cover his eye, but refused to leave.  _

_ The young prince fought off the man, bewildering them. Were they supposed to knock him out and take him by force? Or were they simply supposed to let him dive into the arms of a pirate? None of them tried to reach for a weapon nor ran after him when he dived into the water feet first next to the watercraft João was waiting for him in. There was no time to exchange sentiments or say farewell to the old redhead. Arthur got on board and shoved the portuguese’s head down.  _

_ “They’ll kill you on sight, but not me. Just stay hidden!”  _

_ As they paddled away from the scene of his crimes, Abel took the opportunity to disappear from sight. Through all this disorder, the redhead walked back to where Francis had been shot. He found him drowning unconscious in the water. Taking off a minimum amount of clothes and leaving his weapons into the hands of a guard, he dove head first to save the nobleman’s life.  _

_ “But sir! What about-- … Bloody hell.”  _

_ ____________ _

  
  


_ Laughter loaded the cold air of the early morning. The sunrise illuminated the golden blonde’s best features as he took care of the ponytail brunette’s gored eye.  _

_ “I can’t believe we escaped.” The pirate tried to keep his wincing to himself while his Inglaterra stamped the scar.  _

_ “I can’t believe he’s dead.” The absorption showed in his tone. They both kept a wide smirk, not yet caring about the british navy looking everywhere for them.  _

_ “Maybe we should celebrate.” João so boldly suggested as he leaned forward. “The skies are clear and we should find an island that’s part of Portugal this afternoon.”  _

_ “I say we should-- oh, but your eye?” Arthur was not afraid to take his sexual approach. He was freed from his demons.  _

_ “I’m fine. It hurts, but if we do something else…” He grabbed onto his lover’s sides, manhandling him to his lap. “I’ll forget about it.”  _

_ The prince didn’t spoil time to plunge his lips against Portugal’s. His nickname was truly an appropriate pet name. He tasted like, felt warm like and loved like Portugal. He was, in a way, the embodiment of his country. Whereas Arthur would argue that he wasn’t so much a stereotype of England, though he was better to João’s eyes. Perfect in every sense of the word. His hands and fingers, soft, clean and pale like the rest of his skin. His blonde locks reflected like gold in the light. His chest might have been smaller than the pirate’s, but it was strong. His lean muscles didn’t show any form of weakness. His lower part, legs that could crush him without effort, but a rear maybe a little underdeveloped. He liked him like that. When the pirate’s dirty hands followed the other’s features up from under his garments, he found a scarred back. But he didn’t stop touching him. If he did, then, the moment would be ruined.  _

_ Never breaking the embrace, intertwining their tongue together, Kirkland pushed them down. Always topping João, he became rougher in his movements, wanting more than just sharing bliss. He wanted to please the other. He wanted to prove to the captain that he was capable of taking the initiative.  _

_ The portuguese was grateful for his efforts. They exchanged a deep respect for each other in utter silence. Except for the moans. _

_ As the sunrise fell a few hours lower, the two were still tangled together in the boat, floating over the small waves, naked.  _

_ “It’s the afternoon… We should get dressed, land should be in sight soon.” The captain caressed Arthur’s jawline with a finger. Their body glowed with the sun from hours of love making. The brit had fallen asleep an hour prior, with the help of Portugal’s steady breathing.  _

_ “..mmh.. I’m dressed…” He referred to the blouse he was wearing, undone and just long enough to hide his genitals.  _

_ “Inglaterra… Que adorável. (How adorable.)” The older chuckled, getting up without the prince’s consent. He slowly stepped over the bench they used as shelter, sitting on the plank from the opposite side. He started paddling them to land.  _

_ ______________ _

_ Much to João’s surprise, no one seemed to inhabit the part of the island they had arrived on. They dragged the craft over the sand, far enough not to lose it when the water rose back up over night. The pirate couldn’t stop kissing his lover, constantly holding him closer and resting his hands over his chest. He abandoned his boots in the vessel, manifesting the height difference between them. He had to grab the collar of his prince’s blouse to force him down.  _

_ Arthur kept getting excited by the way he was touched so gingerly, biting his lips in an attempt to ignore the growing tension.  _

_ “God, you’re driving me insane, João.” The brit sighed lustfully, turning to face his smaller captain and pulling his waist closer. He was met with an arrogant smirk and needy peepers. Arthur didn’t fall for it, rolling his eyes in the back of his head.  _

_ “Well, it’s not my fault you’re so perfect.” He approached his nose, rotating it to the right. “Kiss me.” He demanded with greens, daring emeralds to obey him through long eyelashes.  _

_ Kirkland was about to give in when an idea came to mind. “Why don’t we get married?”  _

_ With an open mouth and eyes fully closed, João froze in place, thinking about the question. He shut his mouth, kept his eyes closed, and smiled wider. “That was a poor proposal.”  _

_ “Then let me.” He gave them a distance, though still close enough so their arms were embracing each other. “Will you, João Henrique Lisboa, take me as a ghost, a criminal of the royal navy and your husband, until death do us part?” He gave João a modest chuckle as his arms slowly caught the portuguese’s and held hands in front of them.  _

_ “Sim. Até a morte. (Until death) And will you, Arthur William Kirkland, take me as a filthy pirate, a flawed person and your husband?” Despite the insults thrown his own way, he kept a bright smile. He was being honest. “When I die, you can take everything I own, gold and all. I will need a ship, but that’s why we’re here.” _

_ “Of course. I’ll take you as everything you are. Nothing less, nothing more.” He gave his new husband a smooch. “Although I don’t really have much left as a prince, I want you to have all my fortunes when I die. Anything I end up owning, is yours from now on.” He added, softly massaging the hands.  _

_ “Promise me one thing though.” The smaller gave a look slightly worrisome to Arthur. He paused for too long, though the blonde only gazed at his husband’s features. “Don’t die before me.”  _

_ Arthur softened his expression, letting his shoulders drop. He didn’t realize just how stiff that last comment made him. He was about to refuse such a word of honour, but found that it was better to do so as long as João promised the same thing. “I promise as long as you don’t do anything stupid to save me. If you do, I will truly lose everything. I’m… not anything without you, João.” His eyes appeared downhearted.  _

_ “Then, it’s a promise.” He purred with the wind. “Eu te amo, meu coração.”  _

_ Arthur drew their bodies closer with a wide, beaming grin and kissed him passionately. He hoped for their happiness to last an eternity. The captain pulled off one of his rings from his finger, one that would fit the brit, and gave it to him. It was the prettiest one ; a simple golden wedding band to finish off their unofficial ceremony and seal the contract. The blonde didn’t delay his acceptance. He placed it around the right finger on his left hand. He gave it a quick peck and hugged the other as a thank you.  _

_ “I refuse to leave you.” _

_ “You will never need to, my love.” _

_ “Until death do us part.” _

* * *

**_“Alistair of Scotland.” Medium, slicked back, bright red hair shined in the dim lighted room as he passed a brawny, porcelain hand through the front to adjust the few locks out of place._ **

**_“Why is that name so familiar?” Ocean blue eyes followed every movement the other made, observing with the sharpness of a blade. “How come you know so much about me?”_ **

**_“I’m an admiral.” The thickness of the accent made the Frenchman weak in the knees. “I’m supposed to know all that are close to the royal family. How come you were able to flee the battle if you and Kirkland were both kidnapped? Why didn’t you fight? And why did you stop me from arresting them on time?”_ **

**_“Ah, all these questions… Are you trying to make me nervous?”_ **

**______________ **

**_Not long after João and I became one, we were found by the royal fleet. Though, this time… I was a fugitive. I was guilty of mutiny for choosing pirates over my own blood, shooting a nobleman and disobeying royal guards’ orders. Even if my father wanted me alive, I knew I would be imprisoned for life. That was their way of showing mercy to a prince. I find it ten times more cruel than to be hung by the neck until death._ **

**_I knew that it wasn’t over…_ **

**_I just didn’t expect this to be only the beginning._ **

**_I was naive to think I could be happy._ **

**_But no matter what I chose, a life of obedience or freedom, no one would let me live in peace._ **

**_The next chapter of my life proved to me just how cruel God could be._ **

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this! I'm very proud of my work. 
> 
> I'd like to give out a special thanks to chiring.art on instagram for this wonderful idea and motivation! I will eventually continue this story into a second part, so stay tuned. New characters to be introduced, new backgrounds and flashbacks, more action and more romance. Of course, it wouldn't be a good story without some good ol' fashion angst/pain. 
> 
> I really appreciate everyone's comments and I'm always open for criticism!


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